


The Hot Guy

by Sharonfofaron



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 26,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharonfofaron/pseuds/Sharonfofaron
Summary: This is young Panama sexy Sam, hitting on a younger sexy guy coincidentally named Sammy. There will eventually be romance and smut. :) Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of my stories have common themes because I have lots of different ideas for how I want stories to go...so yes, I'm aware that this is crazy similar to my story "The Kid"! It'll be different, though, I swear! :) 
> 
> I always imagine Sammy as Dylan O'Brien's Stiles from Season 2 of Teen Wolf. And I chose the name Sammy because...well it's as adorable as a tough-looking puppy-eyed teenage boy who secretly loves gummy bears.

"Thanks," Sammy murmured politely as he took his drink from the waiter Jameson. His muscles shifted under his shirt as he bent back over his papers--and Samuel Drake, a couple tables away, felt his abs automatically tighten. 

They'd been working here in this South African docking-town for about a week now, him and the usual gang, and having dinner here every night. And Sam could NOT stop staring at the boy over there, who was there at the same time as them, quietly working on papers with a somber expression. He had doe-like, soft velvety brown eyes--Sam could tell that much even just from over here--and a lean, muscular tone to his entire posture and physique. His soft gray t-shirt had an elegant fit, at least on him, even though Samuel knew it was cheap. It was just a hair less tight than Rafe's were; Rafe liked to wear his to show OFF his muscle, whereas this kid seemed to not care one way or another. Hell, he didn't even seem to know he HAD muscle. 

But he did, Sam thought to himself, ohhhh he most definitely did---

Normally he would be flirting, but for some reason this kid was making him nervous. Sam felt fragile, trembly, not at all like himself. Or, at least, not like his normal charismatic self. More like his quieter, serious self that he only showed to Nate and occasionally Chloe when Nadine was hurting his feelings. 

The others were chatting about things, and Sam idly made comments like he'd been doing all week, when Chloe suddenly rapped his arm. 

"Hey."

"What?" Sam felt himself jolt, but tried to cover it quickly even though he could feel his heart-rate going up. He hoped he wasn't blushing--but if everyone didn't stop staring at him, he would be. 

Chloe's voice was low, cheerful, and mischievous, and everyone leaned in together to hear. "You have GOT to stop staring at that poor boy. Sam, you're gonna scare him!" 

"I'm not staring!" Sam's voice got higher, his accent thickening as he held up his hands in protest and hissed back his response. The others started talking--and laughing a little at his plight--all at once. 

"Yes you are-"

"You haven't heard a word we've said--"

"You missed my entire Jamaica story--"

Sam groaned and held up his hands in mock surrender now. "All right, all right," he conceded caustically, "maybe I was staring a LITTLE bit-"

Chloe scoffed "uh, YEAH--"

Sammy glanced over at the table nearby. They were the only other people here, and he'd seen them every other day this week. They were a loud bunch, or a rowdy one anyway; but he couldn't really care less. Good for them if they were having fun. 

The glance was only a second, and the younger guy's expression was neutral, but it was enough for Sam to tense. He elbowed Chloe. "Will you SHUT UP, YOU'RE gonna scare him!"

"Okay--" Chloe was laughing, and Sam could feel that he was definitely turning red now. "Shut up!" 

"Sam, you should go talk to him," Elena said with a gentle little laugh. But Sam was too defensive now, and Nate and Elena could already see him clamming up. "I'm NOT gonna go talk to him. Just forget it," he said caustically, still bright red. Nate gave Chloe a look, and she sensibly decided to back off and smoothly slide the conversation to something more palatable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Two hours later, everyone but Nathan and Sullivan and Sam had left for beds at the hotel; it had been a long day of rock climbing, and they were tuckered out. Sam still hadn't gotten over his embarrassment, and barely even looked at the guy now...or at least, not unless he was absolutely certain that Nate and Sully wouldn't catch him. Resigned, he finished his drink. They were leaving the restaurant and heading back to the hotel when Nate stopped Sam, letting Sully walk ahead. "YOU are going back inside." Sam looked puzzled, but Nate affectionately put a hand on his chest to keep him still. "Sam," he said gently, not a trace of mockery in his voice and nothing but commiseration, "You've been staring at that boy all week. Just say hi." 

Sam's hackles had been going up when Nate started talking, but they quickly settled and he ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Shit, I'm that obvious huh?"

"Yeah." Nate smiled comfortingly. "Just go say hi." 

"Just hi?"

"Yeah," Nate said brightly. "Sam, if he's the right kind of person you'll get along with, then hi is all you'll need to say. He'll play ball."

"Interesting choice of words," Sam couldn't help saying, laughing a little to try to relieve his own tension. He shifted in place, glancing at the restaurant. Nate patted him on the shoulder gently and bracingly. "Go. 'Hi'." 

"'Hi'," Sam repeated. "'Hi'." He bounced in place like he was preparing for a fight, taking a big breath. "Okay. I can do that. Thanks, little brother. I'll catch up with you later." 

Sammy was poring over his papers, too focused to notice much, when he felt someone show up next to him. 

"Hi," Sam Drake said. 

Sammy looked up at him from under his lashes, making Sam's heart skip a beat, and gave a polite "Hi" in return. He didn't say anything else, but his small smile was still somehow friendly, if not timid, and even though he looked down at his papers again Sam felt like he'd been encouraged to talk. 

" What is that, Etruscan?" he asked abruptly, genuine interest coloring his voice, and Sammy looked back up, surprised. "Yeah," he said, and his smile got a little bigger and he let out a little laugh.

"Can I see? Scoot over," Sam said, interest in the subject giving him a burst of courage.

Sammy, bemused, lifted an eyebrow with a little smile. But he did indeed scoot, and that was all Sam really needed.

"I'm Sam Drake. You from Boston?" Sam asked as he sidled, his expression friendly but curious. Sammy swallowed the sip of water he'd taken, and nodded. "Yeah."

"Hey, me too!" Sammy gave the older guy a little laugh, since the guy's accent and general demeanor had made that MORE than obvious, and Sam beamed. He'd made the kid laugh.

"Mattapan?"

Sammy blinked, visibly impressed, and responded with a little head tilt that made Sam want to blush. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

Sam chuckled, trying to hide the blush that he was pretty sure WAS coming out. "It's the 'Panners who wanna get out." 

Sammy laughed at that, ACTUALLY laughed for a second, and Sam actually froze as he was pulling out a cigarette. It was...something else, to see that somber kid giggle. 

Sam definitely, DEFINITELY liked it. 

"So what's a kid like you doing out here alone in South Africa? With--" he gestured to the papers with his cigarette "ancient Etruscan papers, I might add." 

Sammy shrugged. "I translate stuff. And I like water." 

"Really?" Sam looked him over, appreciating the excuse to do so. "Ah." He saw the bracelet now. "I should've known. Surfer-boy, ah?" 

Sammy nodded sheepishly. 

"Ever see any sharks?"

Sammy ran a hand over his short hair as he reached for a French fry, nodding. "Yeah. But not when I was in the water with 'em. I actually..." he gave another little shrug. "I'm thinking about going somewhere else. Somewhere I can surf and swim and not worry about sharks underneath me, you know?"

Sam nodded and quirked an eyebrow as he took a drag on his cigarette. "That DOES sound more relaxing." 

After a moment, he asked another question. "Where'd you get these papers?" 

"Treasure hunter. Wants me to translate them for him," Sam said blithely, nibbling his French fry. Sam smirked. "Realllllly."

Sammy paused in his nibbling, looking at the other guy. "What?" 

"I'M a treasure hunter."

Sammy looked interested. "Really?" 

Sam nodded, puffing up with pleasure despite himself. "You like that, huh?" He took another drag on his cigarette with a boyishly-proud smile. 

His tone made Sammy laugh a little uncomfortably and reach for another fry. He'd been flirted with before, but only rarely by guys. And they'd always been rich party-boys coming for a visit. Never a guy who looked like this one, who looked and sounded so much like HIM and his part of town. "I've never done it myself, but yeah, most of the people I work for are treasure hunters too." 

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Just turning eighteen in a couple days," Sammy said, finishing the French fry. Sam only just managed to avoid grinning like an idiot. That was the PERFECT age. And at his own 24, that wasn't too large an age difference either. 

"Happy early birthday, then."

Sammy gave a little laugh. "What?" Sam asked, leaning forward to take a fry and not-so-subtly get closer. "You're not big on your birthday?" He figured the guy hadn't hit him or told him to back off yet--and something in the line of his shoulders told Sam that it wasn't crazy to think sometimes he WOULD--so that was something. 

Sammy shrugged lightly. "Yeah, I guess not. Never really had a nice one, so..." 

"That's too bad." Sam considered him for a moment. Those long-lashed brown eyes looked sad; it was just for a second, like seeing a fish flash by under the water, but he saw it all the same. "Hey." He gave the kid a nudge. "Maybe this time'll be different, huh?" Sammy gave him a slightly brighter smile, eating another fry. 

"Maybe."

"What's your name, anyway? Besides Surfer-Boy." 

Sammy laughed. "Sammy, so--" he gestured to Sam vaguely "I guess our names are pretty similar." 

"Guess so." Sam kept looking at him, and Sammy kept his eyes on his fries. He'd found that making direct eye contact with flirtatious older guys only made them want him more--and Sammy still wasn't sure that he wanted to be wanted. 

"What treasure are you looking for here, anyway?" Sammy asked, and Samuel smirked. "That, I can't tell you."

Sammy scoffed as the waiter--an older man, dressed casually in a flannel and jeans--walked over with two beers. "Did I hear you say it was almost your birthday, Sammy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "This kid." He spoke to Sam now, nodding affectionately in Sammy's direction as he handed over the drinks. "Barely speaks a word, even after coming here for two years, and I only JUST NOW learn that he's got a birthday. On the house." He nods at the beers, grinning. 

"He's not eighteen yet, though!" Sam said jokingly, making a fake-appalled face and putting a hand to his chest like a scandalized old woman. 

Sammy laughed at that, another genuine laugh, and took a sip of his beer gratefully. "Thanks, Jameson," he said as the man left with a jocular laugh. 

"Hey, swing by on your actual birthday, all right?" he called back, walking backwards. "Maybe I'll have some gummy bears for you." 

Sammy perked up, looking like a normal excited teenager for a second, and Sam's eyebrows raised mischievously. "You like gummy bears?"

Sammy gave him an embarrassed grin. "They're my favorite snack. Kind of my ONLY snack, actually," he laughed bashfully. 

"Ehhhh, all right, that's adorable," Sam said, taking a sip of his beer. Sammy glanced at him, but Sam was steadfastly looking elsewhere, determined to avoid freaking the kid out. A flirty comment AND a seductive look would be too much for the younger guy to handle; he could sense it. He'd also already accepted the fact that he wouldn't be getting laid tonight, and the fact that--judging by how he could feel himself subconsciously flexing his biceps, which was ALWAYS his tell, and the light buzzy feeling that definitely had nothing to do with the drink--he really, really liked this kid. And despite the late hour, he didn't feel tired at all.

That thought reminded him. "Hey, you're up kind of late for a kid your age alone. Night owl like me, huh?" He tipped his bottle towards Sammy before sipping from it. 

Sammy shifted in his seat. "Guess so." He nodded towards where Sam had previously been sitting. "Your friends get tired?"

Sam chuckled. "Yeah. I'm made of tougher stuff, apparently. Actually, it's a bunch of friends and then my brother." 

"Cool." Sammy took another sip and finished the last French fry. Sam shifted for a second in place before putting his now-empty beer bottle down. He noticed that Sammy's was only a quarter of the way empty, and grinned. 

"So you're a lightweight, too," he said teasingly. "Also adorable." 

Sammy scoffed. "No I'm not!"

"Yes you are." Sam gestured to his bottle, and both guys laughed as they looked at the obvious evidence. "Okay, maybe I am," Sammy admitted, laughing a little still. 

"Like I said. Adorable." As much as he hated to admit it, it WAS getting late, so Sam straightened and turned to face Sammy more directly. "Listen, Sammy. I gotta go out of town for a little while, but you got a phone number or somethin'?"

Sammy looked at him, expression inscrutable, and it was all Sam could do not to panic. Then Sammy said "sure", and wrote it down on a napkin with his pen. Sam left, after giving the kid an affectionate touch on the arm in farewell, and Sammy looked after him, letting his mouth twitch in a little smile. Sam would think about that mouth twitching every night for weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

A few weeks later, Sam, Nathan, and Sully were disembarking from Sully's plane on a remote Moroccan tarmac. "Well, I'm headed to Spain for a little tail and some sunshine," Sully said. "That is--" he gestured to the blazing hot day around them "MILDER sunshine. How 'bout you boys?" 

"Back to New Orleans," Nate said, hugging Sully goodbye. "You, Sam?" he tapped Sam's arm with a knowing grin. Sam scoffed, excited despite his embarrassment, and hid his blush by putting on some black aviator shades. "Ooh, these are nice," he said, pleased with the sunglasses, before answering Nate's question. "I'll catch up with you in New Orleans, Nathan," he said giving his brother an affectionate hug and strutting off the tarmac. "Right now" he smirked as he walked "I got a date." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Sammy was lounging shirtless on one of the dock pilings, sitting back with a few other surfer-boys and watching some guys surf. For safety's sake, they liked to take turns in groups and watch out for each other. Every one of these boys was an incredibly strong swimmer, and always ready to jump in and save someone in trouble--and even if they might get into fights on the street later, not one boy EVER brought animosity into the water. 

They were speaking Xhosa, having a good time, when Sam Drake arrived. He'd gone to the restaurant and asked around--preferring to try for a surprise rather than text ahead (also, partly, because he sucked at texting and was pretty sure he'd do it wrong.)--and been told by Jameson that if Sammy wasn't in the restaurant translating, he'd be out on the rocks with the boys. And Sam LIKED the sound of that. 

Now, standing near the jetty and seeing the boy, he couldn't help but grin. He knew he'd been excited to see Sammy--but it turned out it was even BETTER when he was without a shirt. The kid was absolutely ripped--and when he sat up straighter for a second, saying something to someone in the water, Sam swallowed hard. 

Jesus Christ, he thought. He even has the V--

Sammy DID have the V--a sexy line of muscle leading right down from his waist to inside his pants. Sam decided he wanted, desperately, to be that V. Or at the very least, to lick it. 

Some of the other guys were shirtless, too, but Sam felt like he was being pulled to Sammy by a magnet. He didn't know how long he stood there, grinning like a creep--fortunately, since he wasn't much older than the boys, no pedophile-alarms were raised--, but eventually he snapped out of it when the boys started going home. The sun wasn't actually going down yet, but it would be soon, and surfer-boys had a knack for knowing when to call it quits--at least, in a dangerous ocean like this one, they did. 

Sammy lingered on the rocks alone, giving Sam his opportunity; some of the boys looked at him curiously as they walked by him, but clearly didn't see him as a threat. Sam was surprised by the pack mentality they were giving off; it was like they were a tribe that Sammy was in. 

Sammy, for his part, was preparing to sit a little longer and watch the sun as it would get lower and start to set. For now, though, it still hung in the sky, refusing to give up its position. 

The unexpected rattling of a bag made him look to his right--to see none other than the guy from a few weeks ago, wearing jeans and a white sleeveless tank top with sunglasses hanging from the collar. He was shaking the bag as he sat down next to him, grinning. 

"Happy late birthday."

Sammy took the bag with a smile and turned it over, the smile growing into a bigger and more genuine one when he saw that it was a jumbo bag of gummy bears. 

"Hey, thanks!" he said, letting the enthusiasm actually come out, and Sam puffed up with pride, taking the sunglasses from his collar and fiddling with them. What he REALLY wanted to do, of course, was grab this kid and lay him down on the rocks and make out with every inch of him. Starting with that V. Or maybe his lips...or licking his abs...

"I figured I should get you the BIG bag, since they're a little late," he said sardonically, smiling affectionately as the kid beamed at him. "This is great," Sammy said happily, eyes lit up, "I actually really wanted some today, too. Thanks!"

"Well, open 'em up then, enjoy," Sam laughed, and Sammy did just that, proffering a handful to Sam. "Ohhh no no no," Sam said mischievously, waving a hand as he used the other to take out a cigarette. "That's all yours." 

"No come on," Sammy said, manners winning out. He kept proffering the bag. "Try some, they're good."

Sam glanced at the kid, realizing he genuinely wanted him to have some and enjoy them, and took a few with a good-natured roll of his eyes. "A'right, a'right, what color should I take." 

"Red." Sammy grinned; the day of surfing, the great sunset that was starting, and the gummy bear surprise had put him in an uncommonly exuberant mood. Sam noticed, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for showing up. AND for knowing this kid's weakness. 

He reached into the bag, the gesture feeling strangely intimate, and tried hard to school his expression. Sammy didn't need to see him grinning like a Cheshire cat because he'd caught the kid in a really good mood. 

"That's orange." 

"Hm? Oh. Whoops." Sam looked down at the gummy bear he'd taken wrong, but before he could put it back, Sammy held the bag up further. "Take a HANDful. They're better that way."

Sam quirked an eyebrow, but did as he said, taking a handful and popping it in his mouth. The flavors swirled together, in a juicy gummy burst of flavor, and he made a "mmm"-ing sound of approval, nodding. 

"Good?" Sammy smiled, looking away out over the water before the older guy could think he was saying it in a flirty way. He put some gummy bears in his own mouth as Sam swallowed and said, with another surprised nod, "GOOD."

Sammy gave a little hum of approval as he ate his own, looking so downright happy that Sam felt like doing a dance. This kid was just so fucking cute--

"How'd your treasure hunt go?" Those long-lashed velvet brown eyes turned from the horizon to him, looking guileless and curious, and Sam grinned in a natural response. "Good. Not as big a payoff as we wanted, but...we did all right."

"What was it, anyway?" Sammy was reaching in the bag for more gummy bears. "A jeweled necklace--You know, you're gonna eat all that before the sun's even gone down," Sam said teasingly, and Sammy laughed mid-chew, covering his mouth in embarrassment. "Yeah," he nodded, laughing still, "my Achille's heel, I guess." 

"Heh." Sam chuckled, and started to light his cigarette. "Here's mine." A thought occurred to him, and he paused before flicking the lighter. "Unless...you don't like it." The sentence was phrased as a question, and Sammy shook his head in response. "Nah, I don't mind it."

"You ever smoke yourself? 'Cuz you shouldn't," Sam said, raising his cigarette-holding hand in mock warning like a stern professor. They both laughed a little, aware of the irony, and Sammy shook his head again. "No, I don't. Surfer boys aren't big on any of that stuff."

"That 'stuff'? What, you mean like drinking and parties and FUN?" Sam joked.

Sammy shrugged. "I can't do any of that stuff. I have the tolerance of a kitten." Thrown by the surprisingly funny comparison, Sam let out a full-on laugh, cracking up. It was his real laugh, kind of a giddy giggle, and Sammy was surprised to hear the sound come out of a guy with such a low, caustic-sounding voice. Surprised in a good way, though, he realized, as he felt his own laugh on his lips. 

A full minute later, Sam was down to only giggling a little. "God, I didn't expect you to say something like that." He wiped his eyes, still giggling. "A KITTEN? Really?"

"Yeah!" Sammy grinned and shrugged sheepishly again, taking a few more gummy bears. "I've tried! I can't--I can't do ANY of that. I've literally gotten sick from just cough syrup."

"Damn." Sam stared at him appreciatively, his guard down from the laughter, and he let himself watch the kid with that admiring gaze until Sammy laughed a little uncomfortably and said "What?".

"Nothing, it's just that that's even more adorable than your passion for kids' candy. And," he snapped his fingers "no WONDER it took you so ridiculously long to finish one beer." He kept talking, seeing that his first sentence had made Sammy start wearing that dangerously neutral, careful facial expression from their first meeting again. Clearly the kid still wasn't ready for quite so head-on a flirtation. "I gotta tell ya though, Sammy, you're in the wrong town for someone who doesn't like to party. If I wasn't busy hunting for treasure, this'd literally be my playground." He gestured to the rooftops and the soon-to-be-opening nightclubs that peppered the harbor. 

Sammy relaxed a little more again. "Yeah." He looked out over the water, dipping one foot in for a second before pulling it back out. "Do your friends like 'FUN' too?"

Sam glanced over at him, curiously, but Sammy didn't seem to be asking out of anything other than light-hearted conversation, so he took another drag on his cigarette and responded. "Eh, they party once in a while. Not usually on the job, though. We have a tendency to get a little, ah, FOCUSED when we're on the trail."

"So what countries have you been to?" Sammy asked, looking interested. Sam remembered again just how much this kid had perked up when he'd said he was a treasure hunter, and felt his chest and biceps start flexing from self-indulgent pride again. Thank goodness he'd been going hard on the push-ups lately. 

"Ah, the usual. Malaysia, Madagascar, Scotland, England, India, Australia." 

"Australia?" Now the kid DEFINITELY looked interested again. Sam couldn't help raising an eyebrow and smirking a little teasingly. "Thought you'd like that."

Sammy smiled, hoping he wasn't blushing. Sometimes he forgot the man was flirting...and he didn't quite know what to do about that. 

"Wait," he changed the subject "So you haven't been to Egypt? Isn't that one of the biggest places for this?"

"Yeah, but it's mostly been picked clean." Sam took another drag. He could tell he was starting to make Sammy uncomfortable again--but at this rate, he'd be chatting-with-a-small-side-of-flirting for decades. And treasure hunters and surfer-boys didn't have time for that. "Is this the only country you've been to besides America?"

"Yeah." Sammy gave a resigned half-shrug. "I do like it here. But I might leave soon."

"Yeah, I remember you saying that." Sam's eyes focused on him more. "Where d'you think you'll go?"

"No idea," Sammy said genuinely. "Any suggestions?" He really did want to know, so he was willing to pay the price of seeing Sam's smile turn more mischievous and feeling his own heartbeat speed up. Even if it was also simultaneously making him kind of want to jump in the water and swim away. 

"Well, you like surfing, but you said you'd like it better with no predators. I know a place." 

"Really?" Sammy leaned forward, interested, and Sam tried and failed to keep his grin from getting cockier. "Really." 

"Where?"

"There's this bay in Madagascar. King's Bay. Beautiful place, with a volcano and a marketplace and everything. Plus lemurs. My brother loved them." 

"I like lemurs," Sammy said positively. "And there's no sharks?"

"No sharks. Not in the bay, anyway." 

"Hm." Sammy looked excited, and Sam felt like HE was blushing now. "Cool, thanks! Maybe I'll give it a try." 

"If you do....don't mention my name. We didn't exactly make a great impression last time we were there."

Sammy laughed. "Duly noted." 

"As in, a gunfire and motorbike-truck chase and entire neighborhoods WRECKED kind of impression."

"Really?" Sammy looked even more interested now, and Sam preened at the attention he was being given. So THIS must be what it felt like to be the most popular kid in high school, or the prom queen, or whatever the fuck those movies were always about. 

Now that Sam knew Sammy liked what he was saying, he delved into it--and it was an hour later, when the sun was really almost down, before he'd finished the Avery story. And Sammy's eyes were about as big as saucers. 

"That's so cool," he said at the end. Sam was just finishing his third cigarette, and smiled. "Glad you like it." 

It was almost too dark now for him to see the caution come back on Sammy's face, but Sam saw it all the same. "Nice sunset," he remarked casually, trying to relax the younger guy again, and nodded towards the horizon. 

"Yeah. Are they nice ones in King's Bay, too?"

"Yeah. They are," Sam said genuinely. He'd liked that place. "And hey--" he touched Sammy's arm for a second, pushing past Sammy's discomfort and ignoring the way Sammy glanced down at his hand "I'll even come visit you and show you around the place, huh?" 

Sammy laughed a little. "Okay." 

"But now--" Sam started to stand up, holding out a hand to help Sammy up that the kid carefully took "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. And I know your lovely kitten self can't handle any partying" they both laughed a little, Sammy's hands in his pockets now as he watched Sam expectantly "but whaddya say I take you to dinner. Late birthday one, you can call it." 

Sammy looked like he was about to say no--because he was--but Sam kept talking, eager to cut him off. "I promise I won't try to get you drunk or anything. Even though apparently all it takes is one drink." 

Sammy laughed a little at that. "AND" Sam added on another perk, genuinely unnerved enough by the threat of this kid's 'no' that he needed to immediately sweeten the deal "I'll even tell you about the shitstorm that happened to me in India." 

That did it; Sammy looked relaxed and eager again, and Sam gave himself another mental pat on the back. So it might only SORT of count as a date. So fuckin' what.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I used Cozumel just because I'm currently starting Shadow of the Tomb Raider (the brand new game!) and it's set there. :)

Two hours later, Sam and Sammy were sitting in that same pub they'd enjoyed a few weeks ago; since it was a Friday night, the place was buzzing, and Sam had been pleasantly surprised to see that Sammy actually seemed to LIKE being around all the hubbub. He'd also rapidly discovered just how much he liked talking to the younger guy; the conversation flowed easily and smoothly, shifting like a river whenever there was any lull, with tangents leading off into great stories. He'd even gotten Sammy warmed up enough to tell some of his OWN stories, and the kid was surprisingly funny. Sam was laughing--REALLY laughing, hard--more than he had since a drunken bender with Nathan in Cozumel last year. 

And then that thought reminded him to tell THAT story; and by the end, Sammy was laughing hard, too. "You got attacked. By a Mexican FERRET--"

"It was a BIG-ASS ferret, though, Sammy, I shit you not--" Sam teased, his accent strong and relaxed and his fourth beer getting the better of him. He'd actually managed to get an arm around Sammy's part of the booth, around the beginning of the third beer--and had needed to get a fourth because it was making him so nervous to keep it there. But Sammy seemed to be letting him, so...

Sam was used to more aggressive, one-night-stand kind of dalliances, making Sammy's passive role a novel one for him. He was very rapidly realizing how much he liked it. There was something sexy and primitive about a target that had to be gently, and steadily, pursued. Sam had been on the buzz end of arousal--the point right before any obvious, well, PHYSICAL signs of arousal, happened--for these past four hours. And even though Sammy had put his shirt on when they were leaving the rocks, that didn't change Sam's knowledge of the body--especially the V--that was underneath it. 

From Sammy's perspective, the night was a fun one. He'd discovered that he loved listening to Sam talk, about pretty much anything; hearing his own accent, especially with Sam's charm and cadences mixed into it, was relaxing or something (the word he refused to acknowledge was 'sexy'). 

And he HAD become aware of Sam's arm around his part of the booth, but only when Sam lowered it a little mid-laugh and it touched the back of his neck. That touch was enough for Sam's laugh to hitch, and for him to draw it back up quickly--Jesus Christ, he hadn't expected it to be that intense touching the kid--and Sammy shifted in his seat immediately to take a sip of his beer, trying to cover up his own visceral reaction to the touch. He was NOT used to being touched; it felt...weird. But as the night went on, and as Sam continued telling him funny stories--and as Sammy had more and more of his one beer--he found himself really relaxing. It was just like hanging out with his surfer friends, he thought.

Then, Sam's arm went around him a little more when they were mid-laugh, and he was reminded that it was different. In fact, he almost choked on his drink. Fortunately, a distraction happened just then--in the form of one Rafe Adler. 

Sammy didn't know who this short, but well-built man was, but he noticed that Sam immediately sat up straight, stopped laughing, and very deliberately wrapped his arm around him in almost a side-hug. And it only took him another second to understand why. 

This new guy's eyes lit up devilishly when he saw Sammy. "Samuel. Fancy seeing you here. Who's your friend?" he asked snidely. Sammy glanced at Sam, unnerved by being held so tight and even MORE unnerved by Sam's obvious tension. 

"The hell are you doing here, Rafe?" Sam said, his voice low and caustic and serious. He knew he was holding onto Sammy faster and tighter than Sammy probably expected, but the immediate threat to the younger guy had automatically made Sam want to pull him close. And he wasn't letting go any time soon, either. Not while Rafe was around. Sam gave him a glare and flexed his fingers and bicep further around Sammy, saying in everything but words that "This boy is MINE". 

"Got some work in the area. Sullivan had mentioned this place, so I figured I'd stop by." 

Sam made a mental note to kill Victor Sullivan. His fingers twitched around Sammy, almost tickling him, and Sammy shifted a little under his grip. Sam only held on tighter. 

"You still haven't told me who your friend is. Don't be rude, Samuel," Rafe tsked. He looked at Sammy again, and smiled. "I'm Rafe Adler. Sam and I work in...similar circles. And who. are. YOU?" he asked slowly, smirking and raising an eyebrow. 

Sammy's face was back to his neutral, careful expression. He glanced at Sam, who was watching him inscrutably, and Sam preened a little internally at seeing that Sammy was looking to him for approval. When Sam didn't give any obvious signs of real danger, Sammy looked back at Rafe. "I'm Sammy," he said with a polite little smile. 

"Hm. And how long has the great Samuel Drake here been holding you hostage?" Rafe nodded down at Sam's arm around Sammy--but Sam still didn't let go, his eyes fixed on Rafe's.

Sam answered before Sammy could. "Sammy, this is the guy we butted heads with on the Avery job." Sammy's head went back a little in recognition. "Oh." 

"I see my reputation precedes me." Rafe winked, Sammy blushed, and Sam practically growled. 

"Sammy, ignore this guy." Rafe nodded towards Sam while Sammy watched tremulously, then smoothly pulled out a card and slid it onto the table. It landed right in front of Sammy's torso on the table. "You ever wanna have some REAL fun, you come see ME, huh?" He smiled confidently, winked again, and headed out with a few unfriendly-looking local guys that Sammy recognized as bad news. 

There was silence for a second, Sam's tension radiating off his body and making him actually vibrate, and it was only when Sammy moved very softly underneath him and gently lifted an arm to flick the card away that Sam realized he still had the kid in a vice-like grip. 

With the delicate flick, the card fell off the table to the floor--and Sam gave a little cough before loosening his hold on Sammy. He didn't entirely let go, though...now that he'd started holding Sammy, he didn't want to. 

"Nice guy," Sammy said sarcastically, but lightly. Sam correctly interpreted this to mean that Sammy hadn't fallen for Rafe's seductive act, and that Rafe also hadn't ruined their night. Sammy was still in a good mood, and Sam could have kissed him for being so easygoing and unflappable. Actually, he'd love to. The thought made him shift in place and reach for his beer. 

"See, I told you he didn't deserve Avery's treasure," Sam said, his bluster and bravado still not entirely back but returning little by little. Sammy picked up on the bigger guy's mood change; he'd clearly been threatened and shaken by Rafe's presence. Seeing that made Sammy somehow feel...braver. More forward. He wanted Sam to go back to having a good time, and being so relaxed and confident and funny. It bothered him to see the other guy upset--and that realization felt too deep, so for now he brushed past it and focused on cheering the Drake brother up. 

Forty-five minutes later, Sam was cracking up at Sammy's jokes, back to feeling good. Sammy was here with HIM, not Rafe. Sammy didn't WANT Rafe. And Sammy was still letting him keep his arm around him; hell, Sammy had even let him keep doing it when he was rubbing the younger guy's arm 'absently' with his thumb. 

Sammy had quite literally caught his breath a little when Sam started doing that, and by the end of his beer he'd practically cocooned himself underneath Sam's arm. Jameson stopped by once in a while with more food and more beer, happy to see that Sammy was smiling and laughing. The kid didn't always do that as often as he should. 

By the end of the night, Sammy was tipsy and giggly, and Sam was very, very turned on. The conversation had shifted from a loud, funny one to a huskier one, where Sam leaned in and whispered jokes against Sammy's ear instead of saying them louder, and Sammy giggled sweetly in response. 

It was perfect. Sam was so, so tempted to brush his lips across Sammy's ear and neck...just a millimeter away--

His phone rang, making both of them jump, and Sam answered quickly to make it stop. He groaned a little as he did it; only about five people had his number, so any phone calls really WERE important. Especially in their line of work. 

It was indeed an emergency, from Chloe--who genuinely sounded apologetic about it--and Sam found himself leaving with several more groans, a one-armed squeeze goodbye to Sammy, and a definite hard-on.

And Sammy watched him go, feeling something he wasn't sure he wanted to recognize.


	5. Chapter 5

"Okay. Do we know where he is now?"

Nadine's voice answered Chloe, slightly tinny through the imperceptible earpiece. "Looks like he's headed into a local pub. Should be a few blocks away, near the docks." 

"Is he alone?" Nathan's voice sounded from his own earpiece; he was out in the mountains nearby, exploring another lead. 

"Looks that way. Be careful."

"Always," Chloe chirped cheerfully as she walked. "See you on the other side, mates. Looks like we'll be putting some of those pickpocket skills to use, eh Sam? Sam?"

Sam blinked next to her, gaze slowly leaving the crowds and moving to his friend. "What? Oh, yeah."

"Sam..." Chloe raised an eyebrow as he coughed a little. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I'm good," he shrugged, but his voice was a little high-pitched. Part of Sam couldn't believe his luck that their most recent treasure hunt had brought them back into South Africa; the other parts were alternating between looking for a certain someone and not blushing. Chloe considered him for a moment. "Sam..." her eyebrow raised higher. 

"I'm GOOD!" he muttered defensively, looking around as they rounded a corner. "Let's do thi--" 

Sam might've been undercover, but his composure completely failed him when he saw Sammy. Stepping out of the surf further down on the docks, lowering his board and putting on a simple gray shirt as he walked...it was definitely him, and Sam couldn't have stopped himself from staring or beaming or walking that way if he'd tried. 

"Sam, what--" Chloe's gaze tried to follow his as she caught up to his new fast pace--then her eyes widened as they looked back and forth between him and the still-oblivious-Sammy. "Ohhhh......"

Sam was too busy staring at Sammy to put up a front. God, he looked even more gorgeous than he remembered...that V and those long lashes were still there...

"Sam?" Sammy's face visibly brightened when he saw the older guy approaching, surprise making his body freeze in place for a second as he straightened up from tying a shoe. "Hey! I didn't know you were back," he said cheerily, smiling happily at the two arrivals. Sam felt his heart quicken in his chest, and couldn't help a breathy gasp in his smile that made his words stutter for a second. "H-hey yourself," he managed to get out, thanking Christ that his voice sounded normal by the end "you haven't been getting up to no good while I've been gone, have you?"

The sardonically-spoken question walked a very thin line between mischievous flirtation and curious, discerning concern--like he wanted to tease and play, but also wanted to really check in and talk; it was such a distinctly-Sam-like tone that Sammy was a little thrown by it. He'd only met the guy twice, but that tone instantly just seemed so familiar...so comfortable--and it sounded like he actually wanted to KNOW about him...

He brushed past it, hands still casually in his pockets, shrugging sheepishly and covering with a light laugh and big smile--but Chloe didn't. She'd never heard Sam sound quite like that, and gave him some side-eye. Sam felt her watching him, and steadfastly ignored it. He willed his blush back down, pulling out a cigarette.

"This is Chloe Frazer." He nodded her way lightly, his narrowed eyes and head tilt and the lifting of his cigarette just naturally cool--and Sammy felt his smile twitch a little again at the sight. He really DID like hanging out with this guy. 

Turning his gaze to the woman, Sammy gave her his friendliest smile and head-nod. "Hi!" he said, smiling bigger in response to the huge grin she gave him back "I'm Sammy. So" he looked between them both brightly, shrugging adorably "is there still MORE treasure to find in South Africa?"

"Ehh, in a way," Sam waffled at the same time as Chloe raised an eyebrow and said "Depends on your definition of treasure." 

They both looked a little startled at each other's interruption, but Sammy laughed. "Okay..." he said jokingly, Sam's eyes on him again "do you already know where you're goin'?" 

"Actually," Chloe said smoothly "we thought we'd pop in there" she gestured calmly to the popular pub-style restaurant just nearby "for a bite. Care to join?" Sam eyed her abruptly, wondering what her end game was with his Sammy. She avoided his gaze, focusing on the surfer-boy's affable smile. 

Sammy did another cheery half-shrug. "Sure, why not!"

Oh, Sam thought as they went, I can think of SEVERAL reasons why not.

The pub was fairly crowded at this time of day--and it only took Chloe a millisecond to spot their target, Rourke, sitting at the bar. Well-dressed, he was a sharply good-looking man in his late twenties--sleek, handsome, lightly bearded, and dangerous. Chloe bumped Sam's elbow as they sat down at a table, guiding his gaze to the man's right suit pocket.

"Sammy!" Someone from the kitchen called over. "Hey!" Sammy said comfortably. "Be right back, guys."

Sam felt Sammy's absence from the booth as soon as he left it, and kept his eyes on him as he walked. That vision was distracted, however, when Chloe elbowed him. He followed her raised eyebrows to see Rourke: Sammy's path was taking him right past the guy, and Rourke--who was sitting and drinking alone in quiet, venomous silence--'s eyes lifted from his plate. He turned in his seat, head angled subtly, to watch Sammy as he went by. Sam had already moved his gaze back to Sammy, who was now having a friendly conversation--but Chloe's focus stayed on Rourke, whose eyes now solidly resembled those of a cat wanting to pounce.

"Well, how 'bout that," she murmured thoughtfully, surprised. 

"Chloe? What is it?" Nadine's voice sounded over their earpieces. 

"Sam, you should grab a bathroom break while you can," Chloe said abruptly, delaying her response to Nadine's question. "In case we need to make a run for it, yeah?"

Sam scoffed. "Now that you mention it..." He didn't feel the need to clarify that it was ALSO a good idea because it would keep him from having to miss any time sitting with Sammy. As soon as he'd slid out of the booth and into the nearby restrooms, Chloe turned her head to look out over the docks, whispering into her comms and hoping that Sam's would have terrible restroom reception. "Nadine, what can you tell me about our target...PERSONALLY?" 

Nadine was, as predicted, discomfited by the delicate subject. "Personally?"

"What, like his romantic life?" Nathan asked from his own location. "Why would Nadine know about THAT?"

"Nadine...?" Chloe waited stubbornly. 

Nadine sighed on the other end. "It's...it is...a well-known but never-ACKNOWLEDGED fact among military personnel that Rourke is...that is, he takes--"

"No time, Nadine!" Chloe hissed. 

"He takes a rather...Socratic method to his personal relationships," Nadine blurted uncomfortably.

"What??" Nathan sounded genuinely confused. 

"He likes teenage boys!" Nadine snapped, her blush practically audible over the communications. 

There was silence from Nathan's end, even as Chloe was hatching her plan. 

"That...is...not what I was expecting you to say," Nate finally eked out. "Jesus, really?"

"Yes. Chloe, why--"

"Wait" Nate had caught on "SHIT, Chloe, if you're using Sammy for this I GUARANTEE you Sam's not gonna like that--"

"It'll be fine," Chloe said brightly, brushing his concern away as Sam and Sammy both started coming back, Rourke's dark eyes on Sammy again.

"No SERIOUSLY Chloe Sam really--"

"Heyy, breadsticks!" Chloe cut Nate's tinny protests off with an exclamation, taking the bowl from a smiling Sammy. "Sammy, you're my hero. One more thing," she said, and Samuel Drake's happy gaze sharpened to a tense one again at her innocent tone "Can you run up to the bartender and grab me one of those beers?" She gestured at the gap in the bar--right next to where Rourke was sitting. "Too thirsty to wait," she said lightly with a faux-bashful laugh.

"Yeah, sure," Sammy said easily, starting to leave again. He was still too pleased by the unexpected surprise of Sam's visit to notice the older guy's strange intensity in his now-Chloe-directed gaze.

Sam lifted a hand to hold Sammy down--but Chloe yanked it away before his fingers could make contact with Sammy's shirt. Since the gesture went unnoticed, Sammy moved towards the bar, all calm smiles and relaxed posture, while Sam turned and glared at his friend. 

"Chloe, what the hell are you doing..." it was practically a growl, and Chloe abruptly realized that Sam really was going to be PISSED--but she'd made her own bed now, she figured. 

"Giving you your chance. Make the grab, Sam. Now!" and she practically shoved him out of the booth.

The bartender was a good guy, and Sammy really did like being in restaurants when they were crowded and happy, so he had no qualms about squeezing into the bar's gap and leaning far over it. "Sorry," he said politely to the guy on his right, barely giving him a glance before cheerfully asking the bartender for a beer. 

Rourke's eyebrows went up a little, pleased, as he turned his head slowly--and if Sammy had been looking, he'd have seen the guy's eyes travel up and down his body, lustfully fixating on the back and shoulder muscles that were taut under his shirt as he leaned. A leisurely, almost-predatory smile grew--and Sam stood stock-still for a second in his approach as he realized what was happening. 

Nate, as usual, had impeccable timing. "Eaaaaasy, Sam, easy, they're just talking," he murmured over the comms. "Just make the grab and go--come on, Sam, you can do it--"

Sam focused on his breathing, and on Nate's calming encouragements "just donnnn't punch him, Sam, donnnn't punch him--" 

Even though the target was completely turned and distracted, it was still the hardest grab he'd ever made. Fortunately, he'd gotten the necessary keycard and passed by the pair before Rourke started talking. 

"You from around here?" The voice was smooth and American, business-like, and Sammy turned with a surprised smile. "Oh! Yeah," he said in a friendly tone. "I am. Thanks," he said to the bartender now, taking the beer before starting to turn and leave. He was in close proximity to the well-groomed guy by default, though, and Rourke gently held up a hand to stop his motion. 

"Silas Rourke." 

Sammy was too distracted by his visitors and his task to catch onto what was happening, so he shook the man's hand politely. "Sammy." 

Rourke's hand was warm and firm, his gaze confident--and Sammy's hand instinctively jerked away when he felt the older guy's fingers deliberately trail across his palm. "You alone?" 

He asked like he already knew the answer--and now that Sammy had finally recognized the look in his eyes, and felt squirmy from his fingers, he was pleased to actually have an unexpected response. "No, actually--"

"Sammy!" Samuel Drake smoothly interrupted out of nowhere, sliding an arm in between them firmly and actually half-lifting half-tugging Sammy bodily off the bar. "There you are--" They were already moving, Sammy's feet practically sliding across the floor at the pace, and all he could do was be towed along as Sam threw back a venomous glare. Rourke's eyes narrowed as he watched, but he grudgingly let it slide. 

"Did Sam just EXPOSE himself to the target?!" Nadine sounded incredulous, while Nate laughed weakly. "Nadine, I'm not sure you worded that right--"

Sam ignored them, his hand still around Sammy and one kind of on his waist as they arrived back at the booth. "Ah, thank you Sammy!" Chloe chirped cheerfully--then quailed a little when she saw Sam's expression as he hustled Sammy down into the middle. 

Sammy was still a little shocked by Sam's possessive physical behavior--and reminded of last time, with that guy Rafe--and was surprised still further when Sam automatically slid in closer in the booth next to him, instead of keeping the usual space apart. He hadn't thought Sam would be sitting that close with company just now, or that he'd be keeping an arm around him.

And he hadn't thought he would feel so excited about it. 

"That guy's bad news," Sam grumbled close to his ear, making Sammy look up at him with questioning innocence. The vulnerable, open look in those soft-lashed velvet-brown eyes made Sam's chest puff up even more protectively. This was HIS Sammy. HIS. He flexed his biceps tighter at the thought, and Sammy abruptly felt...snuggly. Or, warm or tingly or something. His mind definitely would NOT acknowledge that he felt...kind of...turned on. Or that it had started when Samuel Drake got all caveman-protective, either. 

"Really?" he covered with questions. "Do you know him, or is that just your" he gestured vaguely from underneath Sam's big arm "sixth sense?" 

Chloe made her own vague gesture with her hand. "Weeeell, we know him by reputation in a way."

Sammy nodded mildly as she took a sip of beer. "Mmm," she pulled back, surprised "this is a good beer!"

"Right?" Sam laughed, almost proudly. "It local or somethin'?"

"Yeah. Jameson knows a guy in Lesotho. It's good," Sammy agreed, relaxing more now that the booth's wall kept Rourke from staring at him--and now that Sam's forearm was firmly nestled and settled over his upper chest. He may have felt warm and tingly, but he also felt safe. Like he was wrapped in a hard, firm, snuggly blanket...or something.

Jameson himself came over with the food then--comfort food, as far as the eye could see--and the next hour passed by on the back of Chloe's funny stories. By the time she finished eating--and, not-so-coincidentally, left as soon as a resentful Rourke did--Sammy was entirely at ease. Sam's biceps didn't fully relax until Rourke left, though--after which he promptly ordered the younger guy a beer. He smoothly slid his earpiece out when Sammy was taking a sip, signing off for the rest of the day and night--fuck it, he thought, the others can do the break-in by themselves if Chloe's gonna mess with my Sammy like that--

"Don't suppose you've gotten better with these since I've been gone, huh?" he teased, and Sammy giggled sheepishly. "You might be surprised."

Sam arched an eyebrow, the pose flirty enough to make Sammy look away for another sip. "Really."

"No," Sammy cut him off, laughing "you definitely won't be. It'll be exactly the same."

Sam laughed at that, earpiece and Rourke forgotten.

"Hey," he chuckled, lifting Sammy's wrist manually with his own free hand to make their beers clink and to make Sammy giggle "sounds good to me."


	6. Chapter 6

"So what are you doing here, anyway?" Sammy asked, munching on some mozzarella sticks. "Or let me guess--you can't tell me," he added quickly, his tone light enough that Sam knew the boy didn't really mind. 

Sam gave a half-shrug, sipping his beer as an excuse to casually side-eye the shorter guy next to him. "Eh, you never know," he said with a smirk. "I might be feeling chatty."

Sammy heard the flirt in his voice, and steadfastly refused to acknowledge it. He focused on his food, admiring the crunch of the mozzarella sticks between his teeth and the explosion of cheesy flavor that burst in his mouth. Sam, unable to resist, started explaining--one arm still lightly wrapped around Sammy's chest. Sammy felt incredibly, incredibly aware of it, and felt his cheese-stick-focus falter. 

"The name Rourke ring a bell with you?" Sam said caustically, meeting Sammy's gaze and watching him intently. Sammy nodded, brow furrowing a little--and adorably, Sam thought with a smile. "Yeah," Sammy said, surprised, "he's the guy I just met. The one you said was bad news."

Sam, whose jealousy started coming up again at the beginning of the kid's sentence, responded quickly. "That he is." Sammy heard the tension in the bigger guy's voice, and tentatively let Sam keep holding his gaze. He had nice hazel eyes, he realized...

Sam was torn now between continuing his story and continuing the stare. Those long lashes...

Sam coughed. "So," he coughed again, because Sammy kept looking at him like that, and waved his beer "Rourke is the right-hand rent-a-thug in this organization that we're up against on today's treasure hunt. Group called Trinity."

Sammy blinked. "I've heard of them."

"Really?" Sam looked surprised, and a little impressed. Sammy nodded, feeling his heart beat a little faster when Sam Drake looked at him like that. He turned back to his mozzarella sticks, taking another bite. 

"Yeah," he said between the mouthful, "not much, but nothing good." 

Sam laughed. "Yeah, that about sums it up. They're in our business, but they're, ah, mostly focusing on the IMMORTALITY-aspects of treasure hunts. Trying to find things to give them longer life, to remake the world, all kindsa crazy shit. I mean, Nathan and I, we're just here to make some scratch!" 

Sammy giggled at that a little, and felt Sam's arm settle onto him further again. Clearly the Drake brother was taking his laughter as encouragement. "Anyway," Sam continued, "THAT asshole had something we needed--and now that we have it, we're one step ahead. Always a good place to be, right?" he chuckled, lighting a cigarette expertly with his free hand. 

Sammy looked at him again. "Wait--did you get the 'something' from him NOW? Today?" 

Sam suddenly looked shifty. "Well, yeah--but that's all I'm saying," he said, giving Sammy a shake with his arm. Sammy didn't seem to relax, though, so Sam shook him again. "Heyy, no worries, you're innocent in all this, aright?" 

Sammy grudgingly nodded after a moment, eyes still unsure. But Sam wasn't satisfied, and wasn't letting up. He shook him in the side-hug again, tilting his head to get his attention more. "Hey" Sammy looked up at him "Why don't pirates go to strip clubs?"

Sammy looked at him, biting his lip, and Samuel Drake couldn't help it if his thumb started rubbing the kid's arm. "Because they already have all the booty."

Laughing at the joke managed to cover the way Sammy's heart felt like it leaped in his throat at the gesture, so the only clue Sam caught was that the kid's giggle seemed a little unsteadier than usual. But he hadn't HIT him, or shifted away-so Sam kept going. 

And Sammy started steadfastly drinking more of his drink. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it turned out, alcohol WAS good for something, Sammy realized. Sam Drake had been thumbing his arm and gently brushing against his side all night long now, and both of them were feeling the heady tingle--only exacerbated by the way that Sam was whispering jokes in Sammy's ear, breath feathering against his skin.

This time, mid-laugh, Sam's hand fell to be holding Sammy around the waist--and he kept it there. Sammy couldn't help his expression faltering a little: the Drake brother was getting bolder. He suddenly had the urge to clamp his legs together, or to shift in his seat--but something in the way Sam was drinking (a sneaky move that Sammy was starting to recognize now) told him that the taller guy was actually carefully watching his gestures in disguise. He would've seen if Sammy reacted--so Sammy forced himself to stay still.

Still not a move AWAY, though, Sam Drake thought, looking away for a second to try to hide a smile. This was working, even if the kid didn't quite know it yet. Or maybe he did--and just had a great game face.

"Closing time, boys," Jameson said, coming around the booth's bend with an amiable smile. "Sorry."

Sammy expected the arm to be released from around him--but Sam kept him just as close, giving Jameson a perfectly confident and comfortable grin as if he cuddled surfer-boys every day. "Sure thing. Thanks!" 

Jameson was gracious enough not to tease, and kept the same safe, light expression on his face before leaving. Sam and Sammy started leaving the booth at the same time, Sammy specifically choosing his own side instead of following Sam--and trying desperately to regain some semblance of stability. 

Sam grabbed the last fry as they went. "You want it?" he asked, grinning and holding it in front of Sammy's face. Sammy let out a little laugh as they walked, shaking his head. "No thanks."

Mouth full, Sam stepped outside to the dark ocean night--and Sammy tried not to overthink the fact that he'd held the door. 

"Sam!" Chloe and one of the guys Sammy remembered from months ago had shown up at a jog--a good-looking blue-eyed brunette, with the frisky hair and happy-go-lucky smile of a terrier.

Sam stiffened, and the other guy started talking immediately, giving Sammy a curious, friendly smile before his expression shifted. "Something's come up, Sam," he said, eyes widening apologetically in some silent signal. "We gotta go--"

Sam couldn't help letting out a groan, just a little--but thankfully Jameson showed up, locking the door, and Sammy was distracted.

"Sammy," Jameson said, grabbing his arm "I forgot to tell you--there's been five spotted off the east point. Two yesterday and three today."

Sam and his friends couldn't help lingering for a moment, curious; Sammy had suddenly looked very nervous. 

"Really?"

Jameson nodded, face grim. "Yeah." He suddenly held Sammy a little tighter, pointing a finger at him firmly. "You're NOT going in the water for a while, RIGHT?"

Sammy nodded sheepishly. "Right." 

"Good." Jameson seemed to relax a little, and sent the others a wave. "Night, guys."

Sammy watched him go, seeming smaller, before turning back to the group with a sigh. "Sharks," he said quietly, seeing their questioning expressions. "The factory around the bay keeps releasing byproduct chemicals into the water that attract them, and make them more aggressive. We've tried to tell the government, but they won't stop." 

"Shit," Chloe said. Sammy nodded, looking younger and more vulnerable by the second. Sam fought the urge to give him a hug. But the others were watching--so he settled for being aggressive.

"You ARE staying out of the water, RIGHT?" he said, sounding almost threatening. Sammy blinked at him just like Chloe and Nathan did, surprised by the new tone. Sammy glanced at them before timidly speaking back. "Y-yeah..." 

"Good." Sam's expression shifted a little then, still tough but with something...else in it, and Sammy kept his gaze tremulously, feeling like Samuel Drake was getting taller and taller as they stared. 

Chloe didn't let the moment last long though, even though she felt bad. "Sam," she tapped his arm, and Sam glared at her. He hadn't forgotten that she'd used his Sammy. Chloe quailed under his intense expression, so Nathan stepped up, a little shocked. Chloe didn't 'quail', ever. But Sam did look scary, and he couldn't blame the poor kid for shrinking. 

"C'mon, Sam, it's serious," he said, knowing that his brother would at least listen to him of all people. Sam did, grudgingly stepping away from his 'date'. He suddenly realized he'd pulled a 180, and felt bad. Sammy looked a little shell-shocked. "I'll see you later, Sammy," he said, sounding tentative as a form of apology. He couldn't help another surge of angry worry, though, and called out again as the trio was leaving. "Remember to stay outta that water." 

Sammy nodded meekly, watching as they moved off and feeling thoroughly thrown. He'd gone from being seduced and feeling horny to being disciplined and feeling like a three year-old. 

"Sammy," Jameson said kindly, showing up again behind him and almost making him jump. Sammy gave him a brief glance before still watching the trio go around the corner, and Jameson watched them over his shoulder. "That boy likes you," he murmured after a while, and Sammy was still too disheveled to put up a defense. "I know," he said faintly, almost somberly. 

There was silence, aside from the rush of the pitch-black waves, and Jameson seemed to realize that that was all the commentary he was going to get. For now. "Get some sleep, Sammy," he said, patting him on the shoulder again. "You look pale."

Two minutes later, Chloe bopped Sam on the arm as they took off in a run. Things had NOT gone well with the break-in, and they'd have to pick a new town to hide in. 

Sam bristled at Chloe's bop. "Sam, what the hell was that? You totally yelled at that kid back there." 

Sam gave her a glare as Nathan ran alongside him. "Y'know what, don't TALK to me for a while, Chloe." Chloe rolled her eyes as they ran, but he kept going. "You USED the guy I like as BAIT--"

"Sam!" Nathan hissed urgently. "Running now, yelling later!" 

They ran in silence then--but not before Sam defensively murmured "I was just...WORRIED about him."

"Yeah, you have REASON to be," Nate couldn't help panting. "Angry pumped-up-factory-sharks are some serious shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The joke is from this little gem http://www.piratejokes.net/jokes/top20?pg=1 !
> 
> Rourke is a villain from Shadow the Tomb Raider; see my Lara Croft fics if you like those stories!
> 
> Lastly, I don't remember its name but there's a shark movie that involves chemicals in the water amping up the sharks. It was partial inspiration for this, by the by :)


	7. Chapter 7

~Three Months Later~

Sammy pressed his hands frantically against the open wound, feeling the blood literally pulse and escape under his fingers in sickeningly-red waves.  _"SHIT!"_ he swore under his breath, anxiously looking around for some more cloth. He ripped the bottom off the boy nearby's shirt, adrenaline making it an easy task, already regretting the move since it meant he'd had to take his hands off the wound for a second.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry--" as if the boy he was treating could even hear him. Six of the ten were already unconscious, and he just couldn't get to them all in time--

Why the  _FUCK_ did it have to be today--

"Okay, okay, it's all right, you're all right," he said, speaking fast and in a purposely-lighthearted lilt to any of them who would listen. Ten boys and young men, most his age, laying in a circle from where he'd dragged them on the beach--all bloody, all wounded--shaking, passing out--

" _Shit_ -" he swore again as puddles of blood seeped around the next one's thigh, trying to tie off the current boy's abdomen tourniquet as best he could. The boy winced, filling Sammy with temporary relief--at least he wasn't dead--this was  _Tommy_ , Tommy, his  _friend_ Tommy--

But he couldn't think about that right now. No time, he thought as he scrambled over to the next boy in the puddle. "Hey hey hey, it's okay, you're okay," he said, touching the boy's face to make him hear him "I'm gonna help you, okay--"

"Is it gone? Is it-gone?" Kai asked frantically, lifting his head up a little bit. Understanding, Sammy responded immediately, already making the next makeshift tourniquet. "NO, no Kai it's not gone, it's just a bite okay, think of all the bad-ass stories you're gonna get to tell," he joked weakly, as Kai's head sank back in relief. 

"You're okay, you're all okay," he said louder, trying desperately to talk to the entire group. He had a BAD feeling about number seven--

"M'c-c-c-o-lllddd--" one of the first boys shivered. "I know, I know," Sammy answered quickly, "you're in shock it's gonna go away soon--"

He hoped.  _FUCK_ he didn't have any blankets--

Towels, there were beach towels nearby since they'd been surfing--he darted away for a second to get some, putting a couple over all the shaking boys--seven still wasn't moving--

He practically fell onto the eighteen year-old, grasping at him and feeling for a pulse; it was faint, but there. The lifeguard first aid kit he'd practically ripped from its usual pole was open beside him, and he rifled through it, trying to read the labels without panicking. He wasn't a DOCTOR for god's sake...

Epinephrine. Okay, he knew that one--good--

He slid back through the sand to the man and injected a little into his arm, too worried about giving him a heart attack to give too much, and glanced frantically between all the boys as he felt the man's pulse quicken. Satisfied, he put a towel over him, muttering whatever nonsense comfort words he could think of as he hurried to the next.

It was all a blur of tourniquets and epinephrine shots and shaking; the boys were practically grey from being cold, and Sammy didn't know what else to do.

Legs up, he remembered reading something about putting legs up to slow bleeding--

The beach was fortunately littered with small branches and logs, making easy footrests to elevate the feet of all the boys who had leg bites--which was almost all of them. Brady's looked really bad, though...Sammy tied his tourniquet tighter. He gave them all a cursory glance, barely breathing himself; they looked ALMOST stable, which would have to do. He sprinted to the street up the hill, bursting through Jameson's door and making quick headway to the phone in the empty restaurant. 

The guy on the phone almost didn't believe him when he said there were ten shark attacks; such a simultaneous number was virtually unheard of. They were coming, they were on their way, but Sammy could feel it, the airlift it wouldn't...it wouldn't get there in time--

He heard it then, the distant hum of an airborne engine, and for a second Sammy thought he was hallucinating. But he looked outside to see a red and white Cessna, lightly coasting down to the docks--

Sammy didn't think he'd ever run so fast. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam Drake was just stepping out of the plane, with Sully, Nadine, Chloe, and Nathan in tow, when he heard his name.

"Sam!" It was Sammy, streaking across the pier and waving. He got close in no time--and Sam's chest clenched when he saw that Sammy was looking skinny, white, and absolutely COVERED in blood. 

"The plane! Fly the plane to the beach!" 

"What's wrong?" The South African woman answered immediately, speaking louder to cut off the others. 

"Shark attack!" Sammy panted. "We need an airlift-get it over there!" He gestured directly to the beach across the way, already running again but pointing. "Medics with me," he said firmly, his entire body still thrumming with adrenaline. He figured they'd understand what he meant "Others call the hospital, tell 'em change of plans!" 

Chloe nodded and sprinted towards the restaurant, the place with the nearest phone, while Sully darted back into the plane with a swear. "Jesus Christ--"

Nadine DID have medical training, just like Nathan, and the two of them caught up with the racing Sammy in no time. Sam started to--

"Sam!" Sully roared. "Help me get 'em into the plane!" 

Sam grit his teeth, glancing Sammy and the others' way but turning to do as Sullivan said. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beach was a mess--and Nadine let out a slightly-panicked "SHIT!" when she saw how many victims there were. But Sammy talked over her, shouting instructions and already kneeling down to help the weakest boys.

"That one's seizing!" he yelled to Nathan, who anxiously grabbed the boy nearest him. "Hold him tight on his side! Epinephrine for that one," he commanded to Nadine close-by, feeling another boy whose pulse was weak.

"Why are there so many?" she managed to ask in a gasp after tightening more tourniquets and giving more injections. 

"No time!" Nate panted, still holding the boy. He looked scared. "More towels, we need more towels!" Sammy shouted at her, and it was a testament to Nadine's focus that she didn't resent being bossed around. She sprinted to a nearby touristy towel-shack, kicking the cabinet open with an angry grunt when she saw it was locked. 

"More for him! More for him!" Sammy instructed urgently when she came back with her arms full, pointing to the boys who looked the palest. "And keep their legs up--"

"Another one's seizing," Nate said, getting paler himself as he held another boy side-down. 

"I'm th-thirsty," one of the younger ones panted. Sammy rubbed his head with one hand while checking his tourniquet, holding his gaze and trying to smile. "Not yet, just a little longer okay?"

"Here, lift him!" Sammy looked over at the new voice, startled to see Sam and the pilot picking up a kid. He hadn't even heard the plane arrive--

Sammy was right behind them as Sam and Sully lowered the first one into the plane, pulling himself up in and already looking around. "MEDS! Your meds--"

"There! Right there--" Sully pointed, stepping past Sammy to get the next kid as Sammy yanked it off the wall. Sam followed Sully, wanting desperately to check on Sammy but knowing that the victims were more important. Seeing Sammy covered in all that blood--he still felt like his heart had stopped--

"SAM!" Sully yelled, and Sam caught up again to lift. Sammy was already kneeling down, administering some morphine to the first--he didn't know exactly why this pilot had all these heavy-duty meds onboard, but thank God he did--and darted over to dose the next one immediately. Nadine and Nathan had stepped up, doing the same, but Sammy didn't let himself take a breath until all ten boys were in and the plane was in the sky. 

Sam and Nathan hung back, comforting the unattended boys and trying to keep them awake while Nadine and Sammy kept them all medicated. Several of them asked for Sammy, making him jump over and get into their line of sight, holding their heads and saying whatever comforting things he could think of until they were relatively calm again. It was like a never-ending stressful dance. 

But number seven, Toby, still wasn't waking up. Sammy focused on him now, the others stable--

"Come on, Toby, c'mon Toby wake up--" His pulse was still there, he KNEW it was, and the epinephrine had made it faster but he was still out--and his arms, God his arms were covered in huge stings--

"Kid, where'm I goin' here?" the pilot asked; Sully had been speaking to the hospital over the radio, and it was in sight, but he didn't know where to land. The others looked on, all poised over different victims nervously.

"The roof, tell them we'll be on the roof--" Sammy didn't stop touching Toby, wrapping him tighter in his blankets and holding his face. He briefly glimpsed the same stings on his own hands--but there wasn't time to think about that--

An EMT crew was on the rooftop waiting, opening the plane's side door quickly and efficiently ushering the kids out, stretcher after stretcher and one by one. And Sammy was right there with them, yelling over the plane's engine and telling them who was stable and who almost wasn't in a firm voice. They started wheeling them away, the others filing out of the plane and staying back--but Sammy wouldn't be left behind.

"No, KEEP THESE THREE TOGETHER," he yelled, the engine still too loud as he pointed at the three stretchers "I'M WITH THESE THREE--"

He hated to make this decision, but the others were the ones that were doing the best--

"YOU CAN'T GO INTO THREE SURGERIES, BUT YOU CAN STAY WITH ONE OF THE OTHERS" the lead EMT yelled back firmly. "WHICH ONE DO YOU KNOW?"

"ALL OF THEM, I KNOW ALL OF THEM!" Sammy said, a little desperately. Sam heard his voice wobble and felt his heart break.

One of the younger boys waved a weak hand, muttering "Sammy..." before his oxygen mask was put on, and Sammy's choice was made. Sam Drake and his friends lingered nervously, watching the sad bloody caravan go down into the emergency rooms. Then Sully sighed. "I'm gonna move the plane and catch a ride back here. I'll call Chloe and have her fill Jameson in on what's happened."

The others nodded faintly, heading down into the hospital as he took off, his plane a bloody mess. It was a jumble of confusion now, the victims-turned-patients being ushered into rooms and surgeries quickly in a chatter of loud medical instructions--but Sam's eyes were fixed on the still-bloody Sammy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am NOT a medical expert in any way so please don't follow any of this as professional advice!


	8. Chapter 8

As it turned out, they all needed some kind of surgery, even minor ones--so all Sammy could do was wait. He paced in the white-tiled hallway right outside The Door, eyes fixed on its little window, while Sam and the others sat down behind him. 

"Sammy..." Sam said, sounding sympathetic. "Come on, sit down."

Sammy shook his head, still pacing in a little circle like a tiger, eyes fixed on the Door that would bring him news. They were in there...what if they NEEDED him again--

The pilot showed up then, carrying coffees and pastries, and Sammy glanced away from the door to meet his gaze. 

"Thank you," he said somberly. It sounded so quiet now in this big hall, without plane engines or shouting. "You probably saved some of their lives."

"Nah," the older man said, sitting down but staring at him "you did." 

Sammy blinked, glancing at the others before turning back to The Door. He distantly heard the man offering Sam and his friends some coffee--then heard his name again. 

"Come on, Sammy," Sam said, sounding a little worried now from his seat, "at least eat something." 

Sammy shook his head again, standing eerily still now. He subconsciously pressed his hands to the glass.

Nadine abruptly straightened. "You're hurt." 

Sammy glanced at her as Sam stood. She nodded towards his arms...he looked down at them, he'd forgotten--

Sam was next to him in a flash, lifting a hand to touch the welts but stopping. "It's FINE, Sam," Sammy was already saying in a long-suffering way. "It's fine--"

"What did it?" Nathan asked. "That one boy, Toby-" Sammy flinched, and Nate looked sorry to bring the name up "he has those too."

Sammy noticed that he deliberately kept the present tense, and appreciated it. He glanced at Sam before answering. 

"Jellyfish."

"Jesus," the pilot said. "What kind?" But Sammy shrugged, looking back at the window even though he could feel Sam's stare practically through his head. "Don't know. But if it was a box jellyfish we'd already be dead. Toby" His throat wobbled a little, and Sam's gaze fixed on it "drifted into a swarm after he got attacked; I had to get him out." 

He said it plainly, matter-of-factly, but Sam inhaled and clenched his fists.

"Where was everybody?" Nadine asked. "And why would sharks attack like that--"

"There's a factory nearby that's been polluting the water with chemicals," Nate explained, and Sammy's eyes darkened as he stared "chemicals that attract that sharks and make them unusually aggressive."

"Why were you in the water?" It was a quiet question from Sam, but Sammy remembered his disciplining and was quick to answer. "The factory finally promised they'd stopped," he said, glancing at Sam meekly and feeling like he was in trouble "and so we hadn't had any shark sightings for months. Everyone was going crazy without surfing, and it--it's a holiday, so everybody else was out at this big picnic thing in the mountains..."

"So everybody snuck out to surf together again for the first time." 

"No," Sammy protested, getting distracted from the window by Sam's bitter tone. "We've been surfing for three weeks now. They must've...started again. Started, without warning us," Sammy said faintly. He looked away from Sam, back at the window. He was starting to feel so tired...

Sam sensed it, and softened. "I'm really sorry," he said in a lower voice, "I know these are your friends."

These are my FAMILY, Sammy thought, pressing his hands and forehead against the window again. Sam stared at his long lashes, remembering how scared he'd felt when he thought he almost lost him...

"I was out of the water taking a break when they all got hit. If they weren't as close to the shallows as they were, I wouldn't have been able to get them all...I'm gonna have to tell their parents," Sammy practically whispered into the glass. 

"Jameson can do that," the older man said softly from his seat. "Chloe's filled him in, so everyone's back at town and knows now. Families are on their way here."

"Hey," Nathan said, making Sammy reluctantly turn to look at him "you would have made one hell of a doctor." 

Sammy scoffed a little wetly, turning back to the window. "Thanks."

"He's serious." Sammy looked at Sam. "Sammy, you kept those kids ALIVE before any help got there! TEN of them. They wouldn't have had a CHANCE without you." Sam's hazel eyes flared. 

"It was good work," Nadine chimed in solemnly from her chair, giving Sammy a small grin. He felt himself fluster, unsure what to do with all the praise--

The pilot--Sullivan or something, Sammy thought he'd heard--got up with a groan. "I'm gonna get some real food, but Sammy," he pointed at him, making Sammy look at him balefully "only if you promise to eat some, all right?"

Sammy nodded with a sigh, looking back at the window. 

"I'm coming too," Nathan said. "Gotta make sure you don't go all vegan on me or something." 

"HA!" Sullivan laughed as they walked, Nadine quietly getting up to follow "Good one."

As soon as they'd left the hallway, Sam couldn't help pulling Sammy into a hug. If it was anyone else, Sammy probably would've just tolerated it and kept on staring; but he felt himself turning and leaning into the embrace instead, burying his head in Sam's chest and lightly lifting his sorer-and-sorer arms to hug back. 

Sam kept his hug light, and pulled back for a second. "This hurt?" he asked worriedly. Sammy shook his head. "No--"

"Good." He hugged him again. "You really scared me, y'know that?"

Sammy nodded into Samuel Drake's chest tentatively, staying like that for a quiet moment. 

Then Sam abruptly pulled his forehead up to give it a chaste kiss, lips pressing against the skin urgently, and Sammy let him. "C'mon," Sam said, blushing and unable to hold his worry back anymore, "we're getting these looked at." He put a hand on the small of Sammy's back, wrapping gently around his waist, and shoved The Door open.


	9. Chapter 9

Sammy sat shirtless on the side of a hospital cot, leaning forward a little while Sam sat in a chair nearby and stared. He hadn't realized Sammy was shirtless when the jellyfish hit--Sammy'd explained that he'd been using his shirt to temporarily stanch one kid's bad bleeding as best he could, before being able to go back for Toby--and the amount of angry purple-red welts all over his crush's chest, shoulders, arms, and back was staggering. 

The others came back then, and Nathan immediately swore. "DAMN, they really got you, huh?" he said sympathetically, joining the others in pulling over some other chairs. Sammy nodded bleakly with a faint laugh. "Yeah, looks pretty bad, right?"

"The nurse is gonna give him some corticosteroids and antihistamines," Sam said quietly. Nate glanced at him, sensing his brother's intense stress, but Sam kept looking at the floor. "They want to give him some pain medicine, but he doesn't wanna be out of it until the others are back from surgery."

"Kid, that's gonna take a long time," Sully said reluctantly. "You sure you don't want somethin'?"

Sammy nodded, but it was faint. The nurse came back in then, a kind woman with a calming smile. "Hey, Sammy," she said comfortably, "I've got some injections to give you, all right? And then let's see if any of these are small enough to help with some ointments."

"Okay," Sammy said, even fainter. She looked at him knowingly. "Starting to hurt, huh." 

Sam's fists clenched as he saw Sammy's tight little nod. Jellyfish stings could hurt like a BITCH--and he knew Sammy wouldn't be so quiet if he wasn't in pain. 

"Just let them do it already," he said firmly, eyes blazing with the command. Sammy couldn't help looking at him, hearing the discipline in his voice, and let out a little sigh, looking away. "Okay..."

"Good. SOMEONE's talked sense into you," the nurse chuckled, preparing the pain-med injection. Sully and Nathan exchanged a look of surprise; apparently Sam already had more sway than he thought. And Sam couldn't help feeling...something, when he realized the kid obeyed him. "He can eat somethin', right?" Sully asked the nurse now, holding up a hamburger. 

At her nod, he promptly shoved the food towards Sammy. "C'mon kid, these meds will all go better with some food. And you look like you're gonna pass out."

Sammy took it grudgingly with a feeble "Thanks", wilting more and more every second--but then a doctor came around the corner, and he shot up. 

The man held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Not everybody's out of surgery yet, but there are four who are all set. Just some deep stitches for torn ligaments."

Sammy didn't look relaxed. "Are they awake yet? Can I see them?"

The doctor glanced his wounds, then at the nurse and the obviously-tense Sam, and told a lie. "They're too out of it still. I'll let you know."

"How are the other surgeries going?" The nurse injected some things into his arm then, but Sammy didn't even flinch. The doctor crumbled a little under his fervent gaze. "I-" he sighed. "There's two who are...it's not going well." 

Sammy gulped. "Toby and Brady?"

The doctor nodded. "We're hoping we might be able to save Brady's leg. Toby was in severe shock, complicated by the jellyfish stings--" he glanced at Sammy's own welts now, but Sammy kept staring him down "we're not sure how it's gonna go yet."

Sammy's eyes narrowed. "That's only six." 

The doctor glanced at the nurse and Sam again. "Four...four died."

Sammy promptly looked back down at the floor. "Shit," he whispered. There was silence for a second as he swallowed. "Wh--" he had to start again "who--" He looked back up at the doctor, eyelashes trembling and fragile. 

The doctor sighed. "Kago, Robbie, Lukas and Tandie."

Sammy closed his eyes, looking back at the floor. The hamburger hung forgotten in his hand. He hadn't know them all very very well--but they were nice. Robbie had been saving up for law school, and Tandie--Tandie was going to be getting married. Everyone had thought he was silly for doing it so early, at only nineteen, but he'd been certain. "I've found my girl, boys," he'd boasted, accent thick as he was grinning. She hadn't been pregnant or anything, he'd said, but someday--

"I'm so sorry." The doctor's voice radiated with regret as he left, and Sammy's manners forced him to eke out a tiny whisper of thanks. He tried desperately to memorize the tile, focusing on its patterns below his feet instead of the bad news hanging above him. 

Someone knocked and came in then, brushing aside the curtain. It was Dikeledi, a well-liked woman who was Lukas's cousin. 

"Hey, Sammy," she said softly, looking delicate and sad as she stood. Sammy's face fell, and Sam's throat tightened at the sight. 

"I'm so sorry; I tried, I really--tried," Sammy said earnestly, eyes a little wet. Dikeledi smiled a sorrowful smile. "No, Sammy, no no," she stepped closer, holding his face "do NOT blame yourself. You did everything you could, everything ANYONE could do. It was just" her voice wobbled "it was just Lukas's time."

Sammy bit his lip, looking even younger. "Is-is everyone else's family here?"

She nodded. "Yes. Some are with their children now, who are out of surgery. None of them are alone, so you don't need to worry about that, all right?" She tried to hold his gaze firmly. "I'm going to go be with them now, but YOU need to rest. Let these people do their work for you, ah?" She nodded towards the nurse. 

Sammy glanced at Sam, feeling that the guy's eyes were fixed on him, and saw a similar order in his eyes. The wounds didn't hurt as much now, which was nice--

His attention suddenly sharpened onto the nurse. "What'd you give me?"

She blinked at the accusation. "It was a very small dose of morphine--" 

Sammy straightened up, tense with guilt. "You shouldn't have done that--other people NEED that--"

Sam stood to be next to him. "Hey, YOU need it too, all right?"

Sammy shook his head, getting more stressed. "No, I just wanted something SMALL, I--"

"There is PLENTY left for everybody else," the nurse said kindly, touching his shoulder. "It's all right, Sammy. It's fine, okay?"

Sammy sighed as she left, still looking uneasy. Sam gave him a little shove on a clearer part of his chest. "Hey, lay down and rest, aright?" 

"AND eat," Sully added from his chair. "C'mon, Sammy, it's good," Nathan added brightly, holding up his own hamburger with his cheeks full. 

Sam poked and prodded him with the hamburger. "C'mon--you can do it--"

Even tired, upset, and a little drugged, Sammy felt himself want to grin at hearing the Drake brother's encouraging, babying voice. He'd spoken with a higher pitch, like he was talking to a puppy--and Sammy liked it. 

Sam didn't see a full smile, but he did see something lighten and change in the younger guy's eyes--and it was only the others' presence that kept him from laying on the bed with him and feeding him by hand. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, darkness was falling, Toby and Brady were out of surgery--touch and go, but out--, and all of Sam's friends were trying to get him to sleep. 

But Sammy had other plans.

"Why--" he shifted on the bed in pain "why were you guys back here, anyway?"

Nathan laughed. "Well, you might've guessed that our treasure hunt last time didn't go as planned."

Sammy laughed lightly. "Yeah." 

"So we're back to finish the job," he summarized cheerfully. Sullivan sat nearby, not-so-subtly-hiding an accidental nap, while Nadine tried to hold back a grin as his head kept bobbing up suddenly from sleep. 

"Well," Sammy said slowly, choosing his words thoughtfully; Sam, who had just gotten back from getting more food for them, tensed "I think I have another job for you now."

The others were silent--but Sam already knew what his Sammy was going to say. 

"The factory broke the law," he said, eyes almost closed from fatigue, but jaw tight. "Will you help me break them back?" 


	10. Chapter 10

Several of the patients' family members had stayed with them in the hospital, so the town was still practically abandoned when Sammy and his new friends started heading back to it the next morning. Sam and the nurse had both tried to convince Sammy to stay longer; he'd barely slept, since his back was just as covered in welts as his chest, and he was practically grey from pain as they'd tried to convince him. But Sammy didn't want to waste a bed, or any more medicine, so pumping him full of some antihistamines and letting him say hi to the now-recovering (and very grateful, and very shell-shocked) boys was the most they could do before he was on his way. He had a grim resolve in his jaw, and Sam knew that the kid hadn't forgotten about his retaliating plans; he was just in too much pain to do anything about it yet.

Sam saw Sammy flinch at the sight of all the blood still layering the floor--wondering which had belonged to the four--and gave him a little squeeze on his upper neck, speaking low and worriedly. "You good?"

"Mhm--" Sammy nodded, but it was a distracted response, and Sam didn't really relax. 

"Hey, Sammy," Sully said as the last of their group re-boarded the little plane, "You know I've still got some morphine in here."

Sammy laughed it off, sitting down and looking exhausted. "Thanks, but I'm okay."

"The hell you are," Nadine snapped, startling the others and making them all pause. "Look--" she sat down next to him, voice brusque and businesslike. "I know what it's like to be in pain, and to try ignoring it to solve other people's problems. And you can trust me when I say that you will be a BETTER HELP to them, to all of them, and more capable of solving these problems, if you're not in pain."

Sammy grudgingly sighed, and Sam knew his expressions well enough by now to know that it was a concession. He handed over the now-disheveled first aid kit, and Sammy flinched just a little as Nadine administered the shot--but everyone's shoulders started relaxing as they saw Sammy tense noticeably less. Clearly the medicine was already working. 

"Thank goodness for drugs," Nate joked lightly, making Sammy smile. A thought came to the kid then, and he sat up a little. Nadine was right; he DID feel perkier. 

"Have you talked to your friend?" he asked, looking between them all. "Back home? I mean, Jameson's not here so I'm assuming she's with him--"

"I talked to her last night," Nadine said. "No worries, eh?"

"Yeah," Sam said, sitting down next to Sammy on his other side, Boston accent sounding firm and caustic "so for the moment, Sammy, YOU" he pointed at him, trying out his new obedience-power experimentally again "actually have NOTHING to worry about! So" he lifted a hand and gently, but determinedly, pushed Sammy's forehead back to make him lean against the wall "go to SLEEP."

Again, Sammy listened to Samuel Drake's command with a sigh--and again, Sam felt...well, excited (and maybe a little turned on) at the behavior. 

With upright sleep that was easy on his wounds, and with the pain gone, Sammy slept. It was little more than a nap, but it was enough; some of his natural color had returned to his cheeks as they got off the plane, and he stood up straighter as he looked around.

Chloe was waiting on the dock, yawning cheerfully, as they arrived. "Hey," she said affably, Nadine checking in equally-happily with a touch of her girlfriend's arm. "Hey."

"Where's Jameson?" Sammy asked. Jameson was the unofficial father of the town, and of many of these surfer-boys. Sammy had been surprised to learn that Jameson wasn't at the hospital, and it worried him. 

"I was with him last night at his pub," Chloe said as the group walked down the pier. "He was upset, but okay."

"Wait--" Sammy froze. "You left him ALONE? For the night??"

The others stopped too, looking concerned as the kid's weary face fell. "Um...yes...?" Chloe said slowly. "Should I not have--" 

Sammy started running. "Sammy?" Sam called after him, catching up with the others anxiously as Sammy rounded the pier. 

He burst into the empty pub, frantically looking around--then looked behind the bar, just as Sam and his friends arrived.

"Oh, Jameson--" Sammy darted behind the counter and knelt down next to the semi-conscious man, rum bottles and spilled glasses beside him. "Hey, come on Jameson, come on wake up, it's okay," he said quickly, touching Jameson's face and seeing him slowly blink. Satisfied, Sammy stood again and started rifling around. "Guys, get him up," he said, sounding noticeably more relaxed now that he knew Jameson was conscious. 

Chloe looked guilty as Nate and Sam lifted the drunken man onto a bar seat. "He was okay last night, I swear! I didn't know--"

"It's fine, it's okay," Sammy said quickly, "I just didn't think to tell you--" he wet a clean white washcloth, pressing the cool cloth to Jameson's forehead. "Hold that there," he said to Sam, and Sam tried not to think about the feeling as Sammy manually put his hand over the cloth with his and pressed it there. Sammy certainly did, and his hand felt a buzz, but he was too busy moving on to the next step to acknowledge why.

He winced as he reached up into an overhanging fruit basket, his welts stinging at the move; then, slicing an orange neatly, he held the fruit up to Jameson's bleary-eyed face. "Here, deep inhalations, okay?" He watched Jameson's face worriedly, holding the orange up until the man weakly started holding it himself. 

"This happens a lot, I take it," Sully said quietly as Sammy stepped back and sighed. "No, or--it didn't," he said, sounding a little desperate. "Not for years now, anyway. He was finally sober."

"Shit." Sully sounded sympathetic, and there was silence for a moment. Jameson's eyes opened more, and fixed on his friend. "Sammy..." he sounded broken, despairing even, and Sammy swallowed hard. 

"It's okay, Jameson. It's all right," he answered deliberately lightly. "It's gonna be fine. How're you feeling?"

Jameson's eyes got bigger as he took in Sammy's wounds. "Sammy!" Now he just sounded concerned, and leaned forward, orange forgotten. Sammy promptly pushed it back forward against his face. "I'm FINE; keep breathing in. Want some water? Are you nauseous?" 

Jameson seemed to waver in and out again, and Sammy snapped his fingers. "NAUSEA! Uya kuhlanza??"

Jameson looked blank for a second before slowly shaking his head no; he wasn't going to vomit. 

Sammy almost relaxed again for a second before speaking again. "Ba...bafa, uSammy, bafa..."

Sammy couldn't help sounding sad. "I know, I know they did..." He pressed the orange towards the man again. "I know they died. I know."

"Th-those bastards," the older man spat venomously. He pitched forward again, and Sammy and the others instantly pushed him back up with the orange. "Keep BREATHING, Jameson. Come on, you can do it. And we're gonna stop the factory for good now, all right, so this isn't gonna happen again." 

Jameson seemed to focus then, sobering up the more he breathed in the citrus. "Sammy...Sammy, you CAN'T--if you're caught--"

Sammy cut him off, looking resigned. "It's gonna be fine. They're helping me." He nodded at the others. 

Jameson's eyes flickered. "You're hurt."

"It's jellyfish, it's nothing. Are you feeling better yet?"

"You must be--" Jameson sighed and sat up straighter, clearing his head. "You must be in pain."

Sammy shook it off. "I'm fine."

"Thanks to this guy here," Nate said, bumping his brother. Jameson looked at Sam Drake appreciatively, and Sam couldn't help feeling like he was being introduced to a date's dad. "He practically force-fed this kid some medicine."

Jameson took the washcloth off his head and held out a hand for Sam to shake. "Thank you. I know better than anyone how stressful Sammy can be; this kid's gonna run himself into an early grave if he thinks it can help other people. Drives me nuts," he weakly laughed, and the others joined in. Sammy rolled his eyes, but smiled a little as he moved off to get water. 

"Hey." He turned to see Sam behind him, the two of them semi-alone by the counter now that the others were helping Jameson over to a booth. Sammy suddenly thought of how he'd been touching Sam's hand.

The Drake brother nodded towards his wounds. "Y'need some more for that?" He was already laughing affectionately as Sammy started refusing. "YES you do. C'mon. And you should probably rinse off, too; a mild shower'll feel better, right?"

Sammy followed him reluctantly, again following Sam's commands, and Sam couldn't bite back a grin. He could get used to this.


	11. Chapter 11

"Is that helping?"

Sammy was showering now at an outdoor shower--one of the plain showerheads near the beach, used by swimmers--and steadfastly not looking at the bloodied beach. The water DID feel nice, and he rubbed his hands over his head and face, enjoying some respite from the sensation of the stress and the pain. He nodded to answer Sam's question.

Sam, for his part, was having a very hard time bouncing between arousal at the sight of the boy's beautifully-built shirtless body--and that V--and between worry upon seeing all the welts and stings and bruises that also covered it.

Sammy stopped showering then, and Sam coughed. "Okay then," he said, a little huskily, and Sammy blinked; shit, Sam thought, he's noticed. He let the huskiness stay in his voice, hoping Sammy would think it was just a sore throat. "You, ah, you're gonna need more morphine now."

Sammy was already visibly gearing up to say no, and Sam held up a firm finger with a grin. 

"I know you've got the game-face of a gladiator, but come on. This," Sam stepped closer, gesturing at the wounds; his voice got lower and more intimate in a way that made Sammy tentatively hold his gaze, and remember that he was currently shirtless "has got to hurt."

When Sammy didn't say anything and just looked at him, Sam tried again. "C'mon." He touched Sammy's wrist lightly with one hand. "Let me help you, ah?"

Sammy's eyelashes flicked nervously as he tried to recover from the now-undeniably-intimate moment. "O...okay."

"There. That feel better?" Sam asked ten minutes later, having just given his crush the injection.

"Of course it feels better, it's a narcotic," Sammy grumbled, acting for all the world like he hadn't just been given a pleasure-inducing drug. He paced back and forth, hands in his pockets as he stared at the ground.

"You must be real fun at parties." Sam's tone made him blink and look up; the bigger guy was smiling at him, expression quirked in affection and bemused humor. Sammy suddenly realized he was being flirted with again, and looked away.

Sam sat down at a nearby bench on the pier and patted it. "C'mon. Sit down."

Sammy glanced at him and away so much like a reluctantly-disciplined animal that Sam couldn't help grinning and laughing again. "Commeeeeee onnnnnn, you can do it," he teased, deliberately making his voice high and babying like he was calling a dog. The tone made Sammy uncomfortable, and made him feel a little bit like blushing, but it also made him want to laugh. He couldn't help a smile and an eye-roll as he grudgingly obeyed--and Sam couldn't help a proud smirk as he realized, once again, that Sammy always listened to his orders. His mind thought then of what OTHER kinds of orders Sammy might obey...

Shutting those thoughts down--for now--Sam sidled closer. "So..." he said a little awkwardly, eyes fixed on Sammy even though Sammy's were now fixed on the beach "my friends and I're gonna finish up our treasure hunt here, should take about a week. And I was thinking..." he tried to make Sammy meet his gaze, and it worked "that maybe you could hold off for a while. JUST until we're back next week, I promise, and then we can go all Rambo-revengeful to your heart's content. Okay??" He dragged out the 'okay', clearly not believing that Sammy's answer could be trusted. "Give you time to rest, and let these heal a little, aright?"

He touched Sammy's chin with one finger in a little chuck, half-joking to get his attention and half...NOT joking. It worked just like all Sam's other manipulations; Sammy couldn't help ducking his chin under cutely to get the finger off, and couldn't help a squirmy nod and a laugh. 

"Okay?"

"Okay."

Sam looked satisfied, smile growing as he witnessed the success of his moves as a flirt. "Let's get some more food into you first," he said--and if it hadn't been for those stupid jellyfish, he thought, he would most definitely have wrapped Sammy in his arm.


	12. Chapter 12

Four days later, the others weren't done finishing up the treasure hunt--but Samuel Drake couldn't take it any more. He HAD to see Sammy. 

Strolling back through the town, his eyes roved the crowds. They were smaller groups than usual; the attack had people seriously shaken up, and it was all anybody was talking about. Jameson's pub wasn't even filled, Sam noticed as he looked inside. No sign of Sammy in there either. He abruptly realized that he didn't know where Sammy actually lived...

It took a few more minutes of exploring--and catching whatever English-speakers he heard in passing and mildly interrogating them about the boy--before he found his target. Sammy was only slightly less battered-looking, the welts all purple now and making him look like beat-up fighter, and he was sitting down on a stone wall near the water, waxing a board.

Sam hustled over faster when he saw that. "Whoaaaa, Sammy," he chastised, one hand tugging the board away. Sammy looked up at him, startled and his mouth opening to protest "the hell are you doing? You'll hurt your shoulders more that way!"

"I'm not going that HARD," Sammy said defensively, still trying to get the board back a little. If Sam hadn't been distracted, he would've flirted more after hearing the innuendo. "And I'm just waxing them for the boys, for if they want 'em when they get back--"

"Nope, no you're not," Sam said firmly, completely taking the board away now and setting it aside. He could really get into this bossing-around thing, especially since Sammy made such a fun and applicable target. He sat down next to the younger guy with an only-partly-jokingly-frustrated sigh. "You're really not makin' this easy for yourself, huh? What did I say about GETTING some REST?"

Sammy could hear that Sam genuinely was a little concerned, despite his teasingly-exasperated tone, and felt like he was in trouble. He shrugged sheepishly, voice going up a little even as it got quieter. "It's FINE, it was just a little--

"There you are!" Sam watched as Jameson approached--and as Sammy got another distinctly-guilty look on his face. "What, you're in trouble with him TOO?" Sam looked almost impressed and laughed as Sammy avoided his gaze. "Sammy here's on a roll."

"Damn right he is," Jameson said, keeping his eyes on the barely-looking-up Sammy. "THIS kid keeps not taking his medicine."

Sam's voice DEFINITELY got more serious now. "What?" His brow furrowed and his gaze sharpened on Sammy--but Jameson had already moved closer and had a hand on the boy's neck, cajoling him into a closer conversation. 

"Come on, Sammy, I know you hate that it makes you sleepy," he said sympathetically, and Sam watched as the kind tone made Sammy grudgingly meet the man's gaze from under his lashes "but you've GOTTA take it, all right? Everybody will be okay while you get some rest. You really do need it, kiddo. You're not gonna heal until your body stops thinking it's in a stressed state, and that's what the antihistamines are FOR. Okay?"

Sammy sighed and nodded, holding out a hand for a pill--but Jameson laughed and grabbed his hand, holding it open longer. "BOTH pills, Sammy; you gotta take TWO. This kid," he scoffed, smiling at Sam in a long-suffering fashion. "impossible to take care of, huh?"

Sam laughed. "I'm beginning to see that." The affectionate purr in his sentence made Sammy firmly focus on the pills in his hand instead of looking up at either of them. Sam had spoken like he was a toy that the Drake brother was going to play with, and he felt like they were both making fun of him. 

Sam's eyes shifted away from Sammy to Jameson as he noticed the boy's refusal to look up. "You look better," he said to the man. Jameson chuckled. "Yeah. Thanks to you guys and Sammy here for pushing me back on the wagon. Really, man, I appreciate that." He patted Sam's arm before leaving. "Make sure he actually SWALLOWS those, all right?" he pointed, pausing in his walk until Sam grinned and nodded. "Oh, don't worry; he will." 

There was that taunting, dominant tone again; Sammy wasn't sure if he liked it. Plus he was pretty sure he'd heard Sam let out a little laugh at the word 'swallows'.

He sat back down, reaching for a water next to his feet, and felt Sam Drake sit down right next to him. "You heard the man," Sam said, Boston accent coming through strong. Sammy still didn't look at him, but took the pills with a wince. 

Sam let out a little giggle, making Sammy give him a glance. "Dozens of jellyfish stings, and you're wincing at a couple PILLS." He shook his head almost admiringly. "You're a real piece a work, you know that?"

Sammy scoffed but didn't really respond, and Sam moved even closer, ducking his head to make their eyes meet. "So..." he said knowingly, and Sammy felt his defenses going up "what was that REALLY about." He nodded towards the surfboard. 

Sammy took another sip of water and shrugged. "Everyone here's devastated," he admitted faintly. "I just wanted a distraction."

"Oh." Sam seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation now, and stopped teasing. "You just seemed to have it all so together when I was leavin', with Jameson and everything, I guess I forgot that you...you lost some friends too. Hey." He bumped Sammy's side, making him look at him again "I'm really sorry about your friends."

Sammy blinked, then looked down at the ground. "Me too."

"How, uh, how long does it take those pills to start kickin' in?"

Sammy shrugged again. "Not long."

"Aaaand let me guess. Jameson's harping on you to get some sleep because you've been doing the exact OPPOSITE of what I told you to do this whole time and have been just running around tryin' to take care of everyone else."

Sammy bit his lip, and Sam had to look away to keep from kissing him. "Sam, you don't understand," he said earnestly. "Everyone's been such a mess with the funerals--like, REALLY a mess, like they won't even remember to go outside or drink or eat FOOD if somebody doesn't make them--"

"Remind you of anyone?" 

Sammy had to laugh at that, knowing he was caught out. "Okay, yeah you're right. I guess I do that too."

"You're a NIGHTMARE for nurses. And," Sam gestured to himself "by nurses I mean me." 

Sammy scoffed again and drank some water. Sam held out a hand. "Gimme a sip." Sammy handed it over. 

"I've been stung by jellyfish before, y'know," Sammy heard himself saying. Sam raised an eyebrow. "Damn. Really? What was that for?"

"See that little dog?" Sammy nodded towards a Pomeranian, running through the street with a little girl. Sam chuckled. "Yeah. He's cute. Kind of like a pom-pom with legs and a pulse."

Sammy laughed. "Yeah." He looked down at the ground again, starting to feel sleepy. "He fell in a swarm a couple years ago. There was no time to get a net, so..."

"So you saved him." 

Sammy nodded. "A dog that size wasn't gonna last thirty seconds in a swarm like that. It" he gestured to himself "it was mostly just my arms, but..."

He glanced over to see that Sam was staring at him with an odd expression on his face. "What?"

"You're a sweetheart, y'know that?" It sounded so affectionate, so...LOVING, that Sammy actually blushed. Then SAM blushed, because Sammy was blushing. He bumped Sammy's side again, but now it was more of a nuzzle. "And that's just so cute. You like little fluffy dogs," he teased, practically whispering it into Sammy's ear. "You do!" Sammy giggled and kept looking down, receptive but shy, just like he had on their two restaurant dates when Sam was hitting on him.

Well, Sammy thought to himself, he HAD wanted a distraction...

He blinked a little slower now, and Sam chuckled. "Starting to get sleepy, huh?"

Sammy laughed sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Well, let's get you to bed then," Sam said plainly, immediately regretting the sentence when he felt his face get redder. He recovered quickly, though, and fortunately Sammy was getting too drowsy to notice. "Where do you live?"

Sammy shrugged. "There's a bunch of little shacks by the beach that we all use--but I..." he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I haven't been sleeping very well there this week."

"That makes sense," Sam said lightly, trying to hide his pity. "Hey, we've got a hotel room. Why don't you come there?"

Not even Sammy's drowsiness could stop him from being taken aback at THAT invitation; it was the one Sam had meant to make months ago. 

Sam refused to acknowledge the subtext, though, and kept going brightly. "I'll leave you alone to sleep, and head back out with the group. Chloe was giving me grief about ditching, anyway."

Actually, she wasn't, and actually, he WOULDN'T be leaving again; but he'd been too unnerved by Sammy's on-edge look to admit that just yet. If only he hadn't had to bring up a hotel room so soon...but Sammy really did look sleepy, and it was so adorable that he was really going to need to get the kid sleeping in a bed before he tried to KISS him into one instead. Even with drugs to make him relaxed, Sammy probably would've need a lot of coaxing for that.

Sammy blinked slower again, nodding once, and Sam grinned. "Aright, upppp we go," he said cheerfully, lifting Sammy in a gentle side-hug in order to avoid touching his wounds. Sammy complied easily now, the idea of a bed seeming great--and the idea of SAM'S bed seeming....well, he was too tired to think about why that sounded good right now. 

It was one snuggly and cuddly walk later that led them to Sam's room--and as Sam spent the next several hours snacking and sitting and not-too-creepily watching Sammy sleep, he found himself liking the idea of staying here in South Africa more and more.


	13. Chapter 13

"Hey." Sammy blinked as he woke up, shifting and turning in bed to look at the guy sitting in a chair next to it. 

Sam rattled the bag again, smiling. "I got you more gummy bears."

Sammy laughed sleepily, and Sam's heart soared. He leaned further forward, practically unable to do anything else. It was like this kid was a magnet, drawing him in. He held up the open bag. "Want some?"

Sammy nodded into the pillow, and Sam gulped. The sight of this kid under his sheets, eyes practically closed...and the things Sam wanted to do with his mouth, to MAKE Sammy look like that--

Goddammit. He felt his erection rising and coiling between his hips, and got up quickly to will it down. "I'm, uh, gonna go down to Jameson's. I'll see you later, aright?" 

Sammy nodded against the pillow again, still-drowsy and smiling at him, and Sam gulped again before leaving. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sammy didn't wake up again until hours later, reveling in the comfort of the nice sheets and the taste of the sweet gummy bears. He lolled about for a while, savoring the experience--and it wasn't until the powerful antihistamine really started wearing off that he realized he was in Samuel Drake's bed.

The knowledge made his cheeks heat, and he refused to acknowledge the fact that he snuggled in a little deeper. No wonder these sheets smelled so good. 

Two more hours later, he'd managed to rein in his blush and get out of bed. Sam was indeed still at Jameson's, having some breakfast at the counter, and he immediately smiled as Jameson shoved a plate Sammy's way. Little did the kid know, Sam Drake had been spending the entire time reining in his OWN blush and arousal, too. 

"Hey," he said easily, glad he'd regained some semblance of self-control, "how'd you sleep?"

"Hey," Sammy answered with a small bashful smile, his voice a little husky from sleep. Sam breathed carefully, since that sexy voice was another test. "Really good. I haven't been in a nice bed like that in a long time."

Sam tried not to preen too much at the compliment on HIS bed, and hid it with a joke. "Those drugs probably help, too."

Sammy laughed; he was blushing a little after realizing what he'd said. "Yeah."

"That's good," Jameson said happily from the bar, "you needed it. You look better."

Sammy's eyes focused on the man. "How was your night?"

Sensing the kid's worry, Jameson paused in his motions and kindly smiled. "It's all good; I've been makin' Thomas stay with me."

"If he gets tired of you, I can do it," Sammy offered immediately, but Jameson smoothly replied. "Ohhh no you don't." He winked at Sam, and Sammy rolled his eyes. "You're officially OFF duty from taking care of other people until further notice. You're fired!" He tossed Sammy an apple with a laugh, and Sammy quickly caught it. 

"Besides," Jameson looked around the place before coming closer "I think you're probably gonna be pretty busy."

Sammy's eyes met his carefully. "Yeah."

Jameson looked at Sam and nodded toward the kid. "You got him?"

"Yeah, don't worry, I got him," Sam smiled easily, trying not to overthink the line. He wasn't lying, though; he WAS going to take care of this kid. 

"Speaking of which--" he waved Jameson over again. "It's time for more of his medicine, isn't it, Sammy?"

Sammy already started refusing, shaking his head and backing away. "No, c'mon--" His voice was entreating and petulant. 

But Jameson and Sam were already talking him down. "At least for an hour so I can start working on it!"

"NO." Sam grabbed Sammy's elbow and tugged him back closer, again trying to avoid the fact that his smile was only part humor and ANOTHER entire part arousal. It was fun, man-handling his crush like this. 

Sammy skittered back across the floor in his grip, mouth squirming reluctantly as Jameson took out the pills. "Sammy," Jameson said patiently, "the factory is not GOING anywhere. And no one's going in the water for months again anyway. It's fine!"

Sighing, Sammy reached in for a pill. Sam raised an eyebrow, making the kid look at him tremulously. "TWO, Sammy. You're right, Jameson; this kid's impossible," he laughed. Sammy winced just like he had yesterday as he swallowed. "Now EAT somethin', too." Sammy sighed, but did as Sam said. 

A few minutes later, Sammy was being led back to bed--but this time he was still awake enough to be uncomfortable about it. 

They kept the conversation light as they entered the room, and Sam gave Sammy a playful shove towards the bed that made them both will down more blushes. Sammy couldn't help a sigh as he slipped under the sheets, though...

Sam was steadfastly focusing on 'rifling' through his bag, even though he wasn't looking for anything--but he most definitely heard the sigh, and tensed. He spoke abruptly, trying to distract. "So. Sammy," he turned back around, sitting down and taking some gummy bears "when WAS that last time you slept in a nice bed, anyway?"

Sammy shrugged, peeking out adorably over the blankets. "Spain. I was in Ibiza, on my way here--figured I'd splurge since it'd be the last time I'd get to for a while."

"And why'd you pick South Africa to live in?"

"I always wanted to surf. Not much chance of that in Boston. Plus I wanted a place where they spoke some English."

Sam watched him. "You must be pretty good with languages, though, if you're a translator."

"I am...on PAPER. Conversational stuff's not as great. I don't think it's very easy."

"Mm. Makes sense." Sam leaned closer. "How'd you get into that?"

Sammy shrugged. "I had a knack for it at the orphanage, so they just kept putting me in more and more linguistics-classes."

Sam stilled. "You're an orphan too?"

Sammy glanced at him and sighed. "Not originally. I had to get taken away from them, and they died later."

"Oh. Shit, I'm sorry."

"S'okay," Sammy mumbled, getting sleepy again. "Orphans gotta stick together, right?"

Sam laughed sadly. "Right. But hey," he leaned closer suddenly and ruffled Sammy's head, making Sammy sleepily giggle "you get some more rest, aright?"

Sammy nodded and sighed under Sam's hand, and Sam's thumb slowed to brush against his cheekbone. Sammy's eyes opened, focusing more at the tender gesture, and their eyes met--

A knock at the door made Sam quickly pull away. He coughed, standing, and Sammy sank back into the bedsheets. 

Ten minutes later, the Drake brother was gone and Sammy was falling asleep--but he knew he'd be dreaming of Sam.


	14. Chapter 14

It was a dark mass in the water--just a flash of shadow, but filled with intent--and Sammy felt like his feet were glued into the ocean floor as he stood helpless to do anything but watch as it circled around him. Getting closer and closer...

Robby screamed off to the right, splashing, and there was a wail to the left from Lukas; Sammy heard a whimper as the darkness got even closer, and knew it was his own. He struggled against the waves from its onslaught frantically--it was headed straight for him--

The force of the 'contact' jolted him awake, sitting up in the bed and splaying his fingers out to clutch at the sheets tightly. His chest heaved, and it took him several seconds to look around the dark moonlit room, see that he was alone, and start rubbing his forehead. Turns out, he HADN'T dreamt of Sam. He'd dreamt of the sharks and all his dead friends instead. 

Even though there was blue moonlight in the air, the room suddenly seemed very very quiet and dark--too much like the monsters in his dream. Sammy was up and out the door before he even realized he'd done it. 

"Sammy?" Jameson and Sam both looked up from the bar, surprised. "What's the matter?"

Sammy visibly collected his thoughts, blinking hard and looking around, and Sam stood up--but Jameson beat him to it. "You're white as a sheet. Hey." Jameson snapped his fingers in Sammy's face, making his friend reluctantly focus on him. "Sammy? You okay? Is it the medicine? What's wrong?"

Sammy nodded faintly, still looking very shaken. "Nightmare."

Jameson's face fell. "Oh. That's okay, Sammy, they'll go away soon. Come on." He put an arm around him. "Come sit with Sam over here."

Sammy felt Sam Drake bracingly squeezing the back of his neck. "Everything all right?"

Sammy kept looking down. He was pretty sure he was going to cry if he didn't. 

Sam's fingers shifted on his neck, then his hand moved to his shoulders and gave his full body a hug. "Hey, you're all right now, hm? You're all right now. It's gonna be okay."

Sammy felt tears wetting his lower lashes despite the comforts, and couldn't help a small sob escaping through his tight lips--FUCK he didn't wanna cry--

"Hey." Sam Drake sounded earnest. "It's okay to cry, Sammy. C'mon, go ahead and let it out--I'm here--I know it sucks, I know--" he snuggled Sammy into his arm again, the other hand wrapping around him to complete the embrace, and Sammy leaned into it a little. He was still sitting stiff and upright, tears leaking out sneakily and sobs making his chest convulse once in a while--but it was as close to a meltdown as he was ready to let himself have.

Jameson met Sam's eyes over Sammy's head and quietly put up the Closed sign.

"Robbie used to have nightmares about sharks," Sammy managed to get out, staring straight ahead at the bar's bottles as tears ran down his stoic face. "But everybody else told him to relax--except me, everyone else told him he was being paranoid--I" he sighed and a few more tears snuck out "I taught him a 1, 2, 3 trick to count down to help himself wake up and I can't help thinking that he--he must have been trying that when it happened and he couldn't figure out why it wasn't working--"

He sniffled, crumpling a little bit from his stoic position, and Sam tugged him further into a hug. "It's okay, Sammy, none of that was your fault, okay?" 

Sammy stayed like that for a while, reluctantly taking comfort in the leaning position and sniffling; Jameson walked over and gave him a squeeze and a kiss on the head too before heading out back to leave them alone for some privacy. Sammy lost track of how long he'd let Sam hold him; Sam's hold had gotten tighter and tighter, and now they both felt all snuggly and warm. Sam Drake's hug was like a thunder jacket, the solid embrace somehow calming the kid down, and Sammy eventually sat up more to signal the end. "Thanks." He let out one last sniffle, voice sounding weak as he dabbed at his cheeks with one hand. He felt so exhausted now...but he didn't want to sleep. 

"No worries, Sammy. Hey" Sam rustled the kid with one arm, jostling him into looking up and meeting his hazel gaze "c'mon, you know you don't have to have it all together all the time, right?"

Sammy looked so childishly guilty that Sam chuckled. "I guess not. Looks like that's something I'm gonna have to work on with you, huh." Sammy's returning-composure wavered again at that dominant, knowing statement; Sam sounded certain of it, and like he was going to be around for a long time. 

Sam Drake affectionately watched Sammy's expression change, receding back into the cautious one he'd already seen so many times, and immediately moved back to casual mode in response. "SPEAKING of you--" he reached into one pocket, but kept the free arm around the kid "I got you somethin'."

Sammy grinned when he saw it: it was a bag of all-red gummy bears. "I didn't even know they sold them like that," he said, sounding happier already as he took it. 

"Oh," Sam chuckled, leaning back confidently to light a cigarette, snaking the other hand around Sammy's waist as he did so, "They don't. Took me an hour to take out all the other ones." He gestured to a bag on the counter filled with 'rejects'. 

Sammy laughed, touched. "Aw, thanks!" 

Sam ruffled his head, talking between the cigarette on his lips. "You wanna go back to sleep yet, and take some medicine, or no." He already knew the answer and smiled. He knew what Sammy REALLY wanted to do was start planning his revenge; but that wasn't what the kid needed right now. Sam had finally gotten to see the kid being really emotional and vulnerable, and he didn't want that to end anytime soon; he knew it was as rare as seeing the open petals of an endangered flower.

Sammy did shake his head no; he was tired, but didn't want to go back to sleep anytime soon. He spoke quietly, tentatively since he already knew Sam's answer would be no "Can we start planning--"

"Nope," Sam said immediately, cutting him off but smiling. He was expecting Sammy to protest mildly--but instead, Sammy looked up at him somberly. "I don't know how I'm gonna get back in the water again," he said, his voice breaking--and Sam felt his heart melt. Sammy's lips quivered. "Surfing is all I ever wanted to do--and now it's gone, I just lost it..." his voice got wetter and quieter, and he looked down at the ground. Sam immediately pulled him closer again. "Hey, you don't have to think about any of that stuff for the future tonight. Okay? None of it. It'll all get figured out. Tonight, you get to just eat gummy bears and be sad."

Sammy looked like he was going to protest for a second, then smiled with a sniffly nod and meekly took one of the candies--and Sam Drake softly smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a really sad movie about a famous ship disaster--I think it might have been The Perfect Storm--with a heartbreaking scene where a young sailor is trying to wake up from the "nightmare" with 1 2 3 wake-up. That was the inspiration for that. 
> 
> Thanks for reading everybody!


	15. Chapter 15

The night had gone on peacefully that way before Sam eventually led Sammy back to bed, so the next morning, Sammy was awake and full of vim and vigor--and gummy bears. The rest of Sam's friends had come back into town, too, their treasure hunt having been a success, and spirits were high. Or at least, they were until the group got back into town and observed all of the sad and unhappy faces. 

Sammy was poring over the blueprints that Jameson had gotten them grimly when Sam and his gang came in. 

"Hey. So. You two got a plan?" Sully asked, sitting down as the others settled in. 

"Actually, yes," Jameson said, "and it's surprisingly simple."

"Oh?" Nadine looked interested.

"Sammy here's figured out that the pipelines for expelling waste are an easy way in--AND they permeate the building's structure enough to make them a huge weakness."

"For...?"

"Bombs," Jameson said brightly. The others stared. "Bombs," Chloe said skeptically. "Where are the two of YOU going to get bombs?"

"Well, from you," Sammy said matter-of-factly, looking directly at Nadine. "You ARE the Nadine Ross from Shoreline, right?" 

Nadine's eyebrows went up. "I wasn't aware that you knew who I was. But yes--and" she looked reluctant, but shrugged "I suppose I could get some materials for you. See it as more of a charity case than anything else, really; after all, this is an injustice, and it is happening in MY country."

Chloe bumped her side affectionately. "Aw, you big ol' softie."

Nadine scoffed. "Shut up."

"So." Sam stepped forward to be next to Sammy and to look at the blueprints. "It would only take a few explosives in some of these key pipelines to blow the whole place up?"

Sammy nodded. "Yup."

"They'll have security cameras," Nathan said somberly. 

"We don't really need to go IN the building," Jameson said. "The more slender of us just have to crawl into the pipes from outside, at night, and put the bombs in. Then we set them off later on."

"They'll know who did it anyway," Chloe said. "Right?"

Sammy shrugged. "They'll know it was someone from town, and we'll be high on the list of suspects--but no, that's all they'll have."

"Aaaand what if there's an innocent security guard or something in there?" Sam slowly asked. Sammy looked to Jameson for his response, and the man shrugged. "I know some people who owed me a favor; they've been keeping tabs on the place, watching to see who goes in and out. They've just made some budgetary cutbacks, so no security guards at night since last week. Place'll be empty."

"Good," Sully grumbled. "Last thing we need is someone innocent on our conscience."

"Well, the soonest I can have the supplies and explosives ready for you is the end of this week," Nadine said thoughtfully. Sammy and Jameson shared a satisfied glance; that was only two days away. "As far as the skinniest people go--well, that would be you" she pointed to Chloe "and Sammy." 

"All right!" Chloe gave Sammy a high five, making him laugh. "Into the tubes we'll go!"

"How wide are those tubes?" Sam asked, sounding a little cautious. Nate looked over at him, hearing his brother's tension. 

"Just wide enough that it'll be solid shimmying for the two of them to get through," Jameson said. "Why?" 

"Nothing, just--" Sam looked over at Sammy, reluctant to say it. "It's gonna be mighty hard on those wounds."

Sammy, discomfited by being the center of attention, looked away. "It'll be fine," he said lightly, "it's only for a few minutes. And they're getting better already."

"Can he take pain meds beforehand?" Sam asked Jameson. But Jameson pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, they'll make him too out of it and risk making a mistake."

"Sam, it's FINE," Sammy said quietly with a smile. "Don't worry about it!"

But Sam WAS worrying about it; Sammy and Nathan could see that already. As the group started sitting down to eat some food--Chloe and Sullivan entertaining the kid with their antics--Nate pulled his brother aside.

"Sam, he'll be FINE," he said kindly. Sam smoked his cigarette and paced a little in frustration. "Come on. Really! He WILL be! Okay? And you can be right there with him."

"Yeah, through an EARpiece," Sam muttered. Nate grinned, and Sam rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Nathan. I'm just...I'm worried about him."

Nate patted his arm. "I know. But he's gonna be okay, Sam. We've got this. Alright?" 

Sam sighed. "Yeah. Okay."

"He's a trooper," Nate said, sounding impressed. "Even if it hurts, he'll make it through those tubes."

"Yeah," Sam sighed again, watching Sammy laugh, "that's what worries me."


	16. Chapter 16

Sammy gritted his teeth, shoulders burning as he wrestled his way through the tubes. Chloe was in one nearby, presumably, but for now the only thing he heard in his earpiece was silence. 

That silence was more fragile than he thought; in the jungle several hundred yards away, Sam Drake was being consistently smacked and muffled by his brother. "Just LET him do his THING, Sam," Nate whispered as he fought to keep Sam awake from the mike again, barely able to hold in a laugh. "He's FINE!"

"He might NOT be--" Sam's voice got a little louder, and Sully nearby, shushed. "Shut it down, boys!" he hissed. 

"But Sam's--"

"Nathan's--"

"SHUT it."

"Hmph," Nathan grumbled, sounding about six years old again "like it's MY fault--" while Sam glowered nearby. Sully smiled to himself at the memory of trying to wrangle these two when they were teenagers helping him with crimes. It had sounded an awful lot like this. 

"Chloe, you good?" Nadine whispered elegantly into the mike. "Peachy keen, darling," Chloe answered breathlessly. Sam threw up his hands and looked at Sullivan. "How come SHE gets to--"

"Shh!" Nate suddenly said, rapping him on the chest and pointing towards the building ahead. Someone was coming in...and it wasn't going to be pretty. 

"Chloe, you've got someone entering the building. Try to be quiet," Nadine warned in a whisper. "Sammy?"

No response. Sam felt his heartbeat quicken. 

"Sammy?" Nadine tapped the mike to check if it was working.

Sammy, for his part, was working very very hard at staying silent. There was a man in uniform standing right above him, and if he looked down through this grate...

"Sammy? Sammy!" Sam's anxious voice practically penetrated Sammy's eardrum, it was so loud--and the man looked down. 

Oh, SHIIIIT--Sammy thought, right before the man started yelling in Xhosa and drew his gun. 

The gang didn't have to have excellent hearing to hear the shouts through the mike, and they all swore, drawing their own weapons and starting forward. "Looks like we're improvising," Nate panted, watching Sam already sprint ahead. "Yeah, what's new," Sully grumbled. 

Sammy hadn't really been in many street fights lately--or ever, if he was being honest--but he'd been in enough; and when the guard yanked him up out of the sewer grate and slammed him against the wall, he was capable enough to throw a good punch. The man's head recoiled for a second in reaction, and Sammy continued with several kicks. 

The sound of grunts and shouts--and the slam of Sammy's body again--was an easy guide for Sam in finding him. 

"Hey, hands off, asshole!" was all Sammy heard before Sam ripped the guard from his chest and socked him unconscious. Sammy looked at him, impressed, his chest heaving. "Nice," he panted. 

Sam, having seen that other opponents weren't there yet--though they no doubt would be, having heard the guard's warning over the radio--temporarily relaxed and smiled. "Really?" he couldn't help sounding like a boy whose crush had complimented his stone-throwing skill. 

Sammy nodded, still panting. "Yeah."

Sam preened, and Sammy distinctly saw his chest puff. Was he flexing his biceps, too, he wondered, or did they just look like that? "Thanks."

"Oooookay," Chloe said nearby, having been lifted up through an adjacent grate by the others and rejoining them. The other three were right behind her, nervously looking around. "Looks like we're blowing it up on shorter notice," she summarized brightly, hands on her hips. "All right there, Sammy?" she asked, seeing his new bruises and seeing that Sam was anxiously hovering at his side. Sammy nodded, still panting, and absentmindedly dabbed off the blood on his lip with the back of his hand. These bruises were going to really smart later--but due to the jellyfish wounds and the tunnel crawl, he was already in pain...

"Aright, let's blow this joint and then, well, blow this joint," Sully joked. The others laughed, leading the way, and were back in the jungle ten minutes later--Sam and Nathan carrying the unconscious guard out, and delicately placing him somewhere to wake up a safe distance away. 

"Here." Sam rapped Sammy on the arm where they crouched now, holding up some pills. "I, uh, got these from Jameson for you. Figured it'd be good for you if you didn't have to wait...after--" he gestured towards the building, meaning its tunnels. Sammy looked at him, eyes wide in the moonlight flickering through the leaves, touched. 

"Aw, thanks." He took them gratefully, accepting the water bottle as well, and sighed. "Really. Thanks."

Sam smiled. "Really got me worried there."

Sammy looked up at him sheepishly before shyly smiling and turning away. He was recused from a response, though, since Chloe spoke up. "Want to do the honors, Sammy?" she held up the detonator. 

Sammy looked at it, then out at the water, thinking of his friends...he turned back with a somber nod. "Damn right I do." 

And as the building exploded in a burst, simmering down to a bright-orange hostile haze, Sammy watched it, eyes still wide...and Sam watched him, thinking some fiery thoughts of his own.


	17. Chapter 17

"Sam, I know you don't want to," Nathan was saying sympathetically, watching his brother pace, "but it's only for a few weeks, and it has to be all FIVE of us--"

"I know, Nathan, I know," Sam snapped, catching himself just after and giving Nathan an apologetic sigh. Nathan waved it off, accepting the apology after years of being the victim of Sam's snippiness whenever he was worried. "I just...I'm gonna miss him, y'know?"

"I know." Nate's voice was quiet. There was silence for a while. "You have his number though, you can call him," he offered. Sam sighed and nodded. "Right. Okay. You're right."

"Go on." Nathan nodded towards the hotel room door. "Go say goodbye to him--but really, Sam," he said kindly, "it's really just 'see you later'. Okay?"

Sam sighed. "Okay."

Sammy was actually headed down to the beach--and planning on saying a goodbye of his own, at some point. Sam easily caught up with him. "Hey, Sammy," he said as he moved to be next to him in a trot "you hear the good news?"

"What, that none of us have been arrested yet?" Sammy asked with a laugh. It was true; the government either sympathized with their cause, or didn't care, and aside from a few cops coming down, nothing had actually happened. 

"Yeah, that really is somethin', huh. But no" Sam started talking faster again "actually we got another treasure hunt to do--but the guy's a persnickety one, and he won't trust us if I'm constantly going off and leaving everybody behind to visit, so I'm...gonna go away for a little while."

Sammy felt a pang of disappointment in his chest, and couldn't help looking at the taller guy. "Oh." There was silence for a moment as Sam stared, gauging the kid's reaction. "Well," Sammy shrugged a little, but couldn't help sounding a bit feeble "is it at least going to be any fun?"

Sam laughed bitterly. "Not likely. MUDDY is more like it. But hey" he touched Sammy's shoulder in a friendly squeeze, and Sammy immediately tried to cover his desire for it with a little laugh "when I get back I'm headin' right over to use those outdoor showers before I come see you, aright? So I won't be all muddy and stinky." 

Sammy smiled. "You don't have to get all cleaned up for ME, Sam. I--" he sighed, and couldn't help feeling guilty as he looked up at the Drake brother. "I was thinking of maybe doing what we'd talked about, and going to that bay in Madagascar."

"King's Bay?" Sam blinked. "When?"

Sammy shrugged, still feeling Sam's hand. "Well, I can't exactly leave NOW since that would be suspicious...so maybe in a couple weeks or so?"

"Three?" Sam asked quickly. "Could you do THREE? I just--" he blushed and stammered "I'll be back then, so then I-y'know, I...could help you settle in there and everything."

Sammy brightened. "Really?" He looked so adorable and puppy-eyed looking up at Sam like that that Sam once again nearly kissed him right then and there, and a smile stretched over his face. "YES, really," he teased, giving the kid a side hug that spiked both their heart rates "I'll give you the grand tour. Anonymously, of course, since they don't like me very much on that island."

Sammy giggled, surprising both of them with the sound. "Okay. That sounds good."

Sam puffed with pride at hearing that; Sammy WANTED to see him, Sammy WANTED to--

Sully waved him over then, and Sam reluctantly stepped away with one more firm warning. "You stay out of trouble, though. Keep taking that medicine--BOTH pills, Sammy. And if anybody from the factory stirs things up, CALL me, okay?"

Sammy nodded and smiled, recognizing Sam's firmness now for the affection that it was--and just maybe feeling a little pleasantly squirmy from the protective tone. "Okay. Be careful! See you soon."

Little did they know how soon that would be.


	18. Smut Begins!

Sam's heart raced in his chest, a pounding thrum that went up to pulse into his throat as he ran. If they didn't get there in time...

Odds were always absurd when it came to the Drake brothers, but this was something else. If anyone had bet that their current treasure hunt would be unexpectedly wound up in the South African factory's corruption and crimes...well, it would've been a long bet and they would've now become a very rich man. But yesterday afternoon, searching through some gun-for-hire's obscure apartment, Nathan had stopped short and spoke low. "Sam..." he held up a file with a symbol emblazoned on it. "Isn't that the symbol from that factory we just blew up?"

Sam looked at it, brow furrowing. "But these are contract killers..."

"If they're involved with that factory, and with Matthias" - Nathan was referring to the man that they were currently working for, a man who was rapidly seeming less and less aboveboard "then this thing goes a whole lot deeper than we thought."

"Sam," Chloe said faintly over the earpiece, tentative to continue "if Nate's right, then they probably haven't just FORGIVEN the blowing up of the factory. They're probably just going to...take matters into their own hands."

Sam's face fell as he looked at Nathan, heart sinking in realization. "Oh, no--"

So now he ran, sprinting frantically down the streets one very short tense flight from Mozambique later--and none too soon: Sammy's little docking town was all on fire. 

Screams and shouts and dogs barking punctuated the orange chaos, and Sam stopped for a second in shock. Nathan grabbed his shoulder and shook him, the others behind him. "Everybody fan out!" he shouted. "Find Sammy! Chloe and Nadine, get Jameson!" 

It hadn't taken them long to deduce on the ride over here that the factory owners were sending in men of their own for revenge--and it was also a safe assumption that the people of the town, when faced with attack, would give up and tell them where Sammy and Jameson lived. Sam's eyes anxiously went to the shack-filled beach, which wasn't on fire yet; but which one was Sammy's?

"GO!" Nate shoved him before splitting off with the others, and Sam started running. 

Sammy had indeed taken his medicine like Sam asked--so he'd been sleeping straight through the attack, quite peacefully as a matter of fact, until there was a frantic knocking on his door. 

Staggering just a little, he opened the shack's tiny excuse-of-a-door, sleepily--and adorably, Sam was helpless to not notice--rubbing his eyes. 

"Sam...?" Sammy sounded tired and confused, but Sam was already talking. 

"Sammy, we gotta go!" Sam watched as Sammy's eyes started widening during his sentence, the kid obviously starting to see the fire and destruction behind him.

Sammy still wasn't sure if he was dreaming or hallucinating--why was Sam back so early? what the hell was going on?--but Sam looked scared, and that was enough for him. The Drake brother already was grabbing him with one hand and tugging him outside, leaning forward past him and picking up his bag swiftly with the other one. "C'mon!" Sam's accent was thick tonight in his urgency, Sammy faintly noticed as they ran. 

An explosion behind them made them both stagger, thrown by the sound, but Sam quickly recovered with an "Ohhhhh SHIT" and started leading Sammy away further. It was a breakneck sprint down the beach now for the two of them; there was some kind of armored carrier at the southern end, firing grenades and RPGs at each one of the shacks in quick succession, clearly unsure which one was right. Sammy could feel the heat on his back, growing more intense, and see when another one had hit its mark from the way that the orange light and shadows on the sand flared nearby. He clung close to Sam. 

"Keep running!" They'd almost made it--

One more solid boom happened, blowing the larger remaining tourist shack sky-high, and Sammy and Sam Drake were both tossed several yards forward by the force. Flying midair was not something Sammy had really experienced before, and he landed on the dirt of a nearby hill with a solid gasp. Sam did the same with a groan, but then--one infinitesimal glance confirming that they were safe now under the cover of the fires because the entire beach was ablaze--immediately crawled over to Sammy. 

"Sammy!" he gasped in a panic, instantly taking Sammy in his arms and lifting his head, hands rapidly going all over his torso and face. "Y'okay?? Sammy--"

"Y-yeah," Sammy coughed weakly, both of them a little sooty now, "I'm okay--"

And then Samuel Drake kissed him, fear and love making him unable to resist a second longer. Sammy was caught off guard as his head was clutched tightly, being manually pulled a little more upright by Samuel Drake's rough hands--but then Sam's lips met his, feathering softly and breath co-mingling for a fierce sensual moment before his tongue pressed against Sammy's urgently, and Sammy lost complete focus on anything else. 

Surprise completely melted away, being replaced by a buzzing warmth and intensity of desire that had them both gasping, and Sammy felt Sam's hands shift to start desperately roaming his entire body and started clutching him back. 

Sam's lust doubled when he felt Sammy's hands start grabbing at his biceps and felt the kid lean up further to caress HIS tongue with his, and let out a groan. That groan made Sammy's legs start separating before he even realized he did it--hell, he didn't even know what was up or down right now--all he wanted, all that filled his thoughts and vision and mind and core and SOUL was Sam--Sam's hands, Sam's lips, his hips, his tongue--GOD his tongue--

A moan came out and one of Sammy's hands automatically held Sam's cheek and jawline tenderly, even as the kiss got more carnal. Sam's lips were open and moving fast as he plundered Sammy's vulnerable mouth, shifting from lifting the kid into an embrace to now further pressing him into the GROUND and laying him down. Sammy completely let him, arms going further around Samuel Drake and smoothing and fondling and grasping at his face and neck and arms and shoulders, and when he felt Sam's body pressing on top of him he automatically writhed. 

That rocking motion made Sam groan louder, and both his hands went down to slide along Sammy's abs and find his V. That V he'd wanted to lick for so long...

The hands slid underneath Sammy's shirt, and he gasped again, abs going inward at the unfamiliar touch--but Sammy immediately realized with another moan that although it was unfamiliar, it was in NO way unwelcome. In fact, he loved it--

Sam's fingers started tracing Sammy's V on both sides in perfect unison, and Sammy's hips bucked. His legs sank into the ground and spread further, completely opening himself up for Sam--and even though they were still maniacally kissing, tongues and lips devouring each other's with powerful sucks and bites and laves, Sam felt Sammy opening up underneath him and smiled. His thoughts had shifted from frantic passion to excitement about Sammy's reciprocation to a burning-hot urgent no-holds-barred-LUST. His thumbs had been rubbing Sammy's V still, feeling Sammy's legs somehow open up MORE, and he moved his hands under the kid to squeeze and clutch at his ass--

Another explosion sounded farther off, but it was close enough to still make them both jolt--a pleasurable sensation, since they were pressed so tightly up together, that made them both whimper. But another explosion sounded again in immediate succession, and now Sam's groan was one of frustration as he very, VERY reluctantly released Sammy from his lips. Sammy lay underneath him, sooty and melty and chest heaving, eyes bright and snappy and fixed awe-filled on Sam Drake's face--and Sam couldn't help kissing him again. 

"Mmmmmmmmm," he groaned again during the kiss, pulling away and punching the ground a little with a clenched fist before splaying the fingers out. He wanted this kid so bad...and Sammy was literally ARCHING UP to meet him, head stretched out forward, ASKING for more of the kiss--

"Mmph. LATER, Sammy, LATER," he groaned, trying vainly to discipline them both. But Sammy had tasted Samuel Drake now, and couldn't want or think of anything else, and he boldly sat upright and stole another one, smiling as he held Sam's face and gave him another deep tongue-filled kiss. 

Sam's noise was kind of a groan-GASP, since he had never expected the kid to be so lustful and into it that he'd get up to such mischief, but he quickly shut it down with a grin and laugh--knowing that if he DIDN'T, he was honestly going to fuck this kid into the dirt right now. 

"mMMPH-haha, LATER Sammy!" he laughed, forcibly stopping the kiss and holding the kid a further distance away. Sammy's eyes were half-lidded now, and he was smiling mischievously, and Sam starkly realized that he would never, EVER get tired of seeing that unabashed desire in his Sammy's face. The urge to lay him back down again and lick those V-lines and just FUCK the kid until they both couldn't take anymore...his erection throbbed in his hips

He yanked Sammy onto his feet and stepped away from him sheepishly. "NOPE, Sammy, NOPE NOPE NOPE, we gotta GO, okay? LATER," he laughed, giddy now from realizing that he loved Sammy, and Sammy loved him, and Sammy WANTED him. "LATER!"

Sammy, feeling a little of his breath come back now--but, mercifully, none of the shyness--nodded and giggled, seeing the fires grow in his peripheral vision but eyes still staying fixed on his Sam. 

"C'mon," Sam panted, grinning and letting out some giggles of his own--and the two of them walked together around the coastline's bend, happy and giddy and absolutely buzzing with lust.


	19. Chapter 19

"Hey, boys." Sullivan's warm rumbled greeting was a stark contrast to the austere little oil tanker he was standing on and the fiery catastrophe of the village beyond the bay. "Glad you made it."

"Hey," Sammy panted as Sully helped him aboard, "we almost didn't." 

Sammy didn't mention that the delay was also partly because he'd been making out with the sexiest man he'd ever seen, or that his panting wasn't just because they'd been climbing up the gray boat's rope ladder. He felt a twinge of guilt as he looked back towards the town--HIS town--in flames. His friends' homes were being destroyed--God, they could be hurt or DYING even--and here he'd been running away and kissing someone, having fun instead of helping. 

Sam Drake was distracted by his own climbing, but he still glanced over at Sammy as he was helped aboard and immediately knew what was wrong. He grudgingly realized that Sammy was probably not going to be 'in the mood' now.

Sam immediately felt like the world's biggest jerk for thinking about getting laid when people were in danger and when the boy he loved was feeling guilty and upset. For chrissakes, Nate and the others weren't back yet, Sammy had just lost his HOME, and still all Sam could think about was what it would be like to start fucking the kid--

His mixture of guilt and sexual frustration was mercifully cut off by a small motorboat's arrival. "That's Jameson and the others," Sully explained, moving off to speak to some of the crew members on the ship, his boots clanking on the steel. 

Sammy's relief upon seeing Jameson upright and alert on the motorboat made him relax enough to notice their surroundings. "So how come we're on an oil tanker?" He asked curiously, looking around the ship and keeping his tone light. Sam recognized the question for what it was: 1 percent genuine curiosity, 99 percent a message that Sammy was done talking about their romance for the time being. Back to platonic matters it was then. He gave in reluctantly, knowing that their sexy moment was over for now. 

But still, he thought to himself as he stepped up and started looking at the boat too, thank God it had finally happened.

"This is the only subtle, stowaway-kind of ride Sully could find on such short notice," Sam said, mirroring Sammy's casual tone. One of the crew members walked by with some ropes and gave them a shifty look. Sam leaned in closer to Sammy. "And judging by the face he just pulled, I'd say they're not exactly happy about the mystery visitors. Sully had to pay extra when the captain saw the burning town--thought we were in some kind of war zone." 

Sammy's face paled underneath the dirt and grime, and Sam immediately regretted what he'd said. "Hey." He brushed some of the dirt off the younger guy's face, keeping the motion quick but tender. "You know none of this is your fault, right? And there weren't any casualties--the town's got a good enough fire department for that." 

Sammy's shoulders sank with relief the second Sam started touching him. "Yeah," he sighed, "you're right--"

"Sammy!" Jameson came up from the ladder then, wrapping the kid in a hug. Sammy winced just a little from the wounds on his back, but let the tight hug happen anyway. Jameson sounded stressed, and no wonder; he'd just lost everything.

Well, Sammy thought sadly, maybe not everything. Jameson was practically crying from relief as he held him. "Sammy, thank God you're okay--"

"And you're okay, too?" Sammy asked, hugging back. His jellyfish stings really were starting to ache from the beating they'd taken tonight, from both the explosion and...well...laying on his back. He quickly pushed that thought away, though. No time to be thinking about sex with Sam Drake right now--

"Yeah, I'm fine. Check it out," Jameson said as the ship moved off, Nate and the others all back onboard. A chopper was coming in overhead. "I managed to call a contact from the news station while we were leaving; told them everything. We can't prove who did this yet, but at least they're covering it and it's getting on the news."

"True," Sammy managed. Getting disasters on TV was practically a necessity for getting the government's attention. They didn't tend to care unless viewers were seeing them fix the problems. 

"So what do we do now?" Chloe asked, sitting down nearby and wiping soot and grime off her own face and arms. The others followed suit; Sam sat down next to Sammy, but delicately kept his distance. He sensed that Sammy wasn't quite ready for on-display cuddling. 

Sully returned from speaking with the captain. "Well, WE get outta here," he said brusquely. "And then we call some old friends."


	20. Chapter 20

"Hey. Sammy." Sammy felt Sam Drake nudging his side, and tried to bite back a grin. Now that he knew how nice it felt to be touched by Sam...every touch was intoxicating. 

Sam's next sentence put a damper on that, though. "You need some more medicine?" 

Sammy was already opening his mouth to sigh, but Sam nodded towards the nearby bag. "You have it in your backpack, right? I'll get it." 

He stood up, and Sammy immediately missed him again. Not quite enough to be happy when he returned with the pills, though. 

"C'monnnnnn, Sammy," Sam wheedled, shaking the bottles like a dog treat. 

"I don't want to sleep through everyone making plans," Sammy protested, sounding serious. Sam raised an eyebrow, but his eyes were warm and understanding. "We can tell you all about the plans in the morning," he said softly. "But a few explosions and" he almost said 'one intense make-out session', but thought better of it "everything else has beaten your back up a little bit. C'mon!" he said cheerfully, shaking the pills in time with his chant. "Pills! Pills! Pills!"

"Welp, that's got to be the worst commercial for drug use I've ever seen," Nate laughed, walking by. "They've got a couple bunks set up for us downstairs, want to go freshen up? Clean off the soot, you guys?"

If Nathan noticed that Sammy had turned a little red when Sam said 'everything else', he was polite enough to pretend he didn't. Sam wouldn't appreciate any teasing either, he knew, so Nathan Drake elected to keep his mouth shut and hide his smile. They were being subtle about it, sure, but something had definitely changed--Sammy seemed to be a whole new kind of nervous, while Sam seemed like he had a weight lifted off of his shoulders. An odd mix, but Nate definitely had a hunch regarding its cause. 

He stuck to his diplomacy, though, and showed them to the tiny four-man bunk before calling dibs on the first use of the ship's utilitarian shower. 

The second he left, Sam felt sexual tension filling the air again. Swallowing hard, he tried to cover by feebly shaking the pills one last time. 

Sammy, for once, was pleased to have the medicine around. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, standing side to side with Sam Drake in the tiny room of bunk beds, alone...he needed a distraction. 

Unfortunately, swallowing the pills involved drinking water--something that brought Samuel Drake's attention right to Sammy's perfect, supple lips. Lips he NEEDED to kiss--

"Sammy..." the tentative tone made Sammy look up at Sam as he swallowed the second pill. Sam didn't usually sound like that. 

Sam stepped closer, just an inch or two awkwardly. "Can I...is this--" he put one hand up gingerly, brushing it against Sammy's pecs and collarbone before wrapping it around the back of his neck. All thoughts of pills and propriety left Sammy's mind as tingles followed the trail of Sam's fingers. He felt the warm, solid grip of Sam's hand around his neck, fingers brushing the base of his hair. 

"Is this okay?" Sam barely got the husky whisper out; Sammy could hear the thinly-veiled restraint ringing through it. He nodded, just a little--

That was all Sam Drake needed. 

He instantly pushed his mouth onto Sammy's again, making Sammy stagger backwards against the nearest bunk bed railing. But Sammy didn't feel the railing's pressure against his back for a second before he was focused on Sam's tongue.

Sam's hands slid underneath Sammy's shirt, instantly groping at his lower back and the upper arch of his ass with tight, demanding fingers. Sammy's mouth opened a little more in a gasp as Sam's lips and tongue mercilessly plundered his, head angled to taste as much of Sammy as he wanted. Sam's tongue flicked along the upper roof of Sammy's mouth, making Sammy whimper. Hearing that sound made Sam Drake let out a muffled moan, and he inhaled deeply, breathing Sammy in as he kissed him even deeper and clutched at the younger guy's ass.

Those Drake hands moved to Sammy's abs, running up the V under his shirt deliciously, and Sammy trembled--

A thump in the hallway scared them both off each other...for a second. Upon hearing that the footsteps were getting closer, Sammy gauged the distance before stealing another kiss in the few seconds' time. Sam grinned into the kiss, plunging his tongue in and playing with Sammy's tongue before abruptly releasing him with a viciously-muttered "FUCK". 

Sammy grinned back a little friskily, excited to be the flirty one for once. For now, even as the door opened and Sully walked in, all other thoughts stayed away. 

Sammy just couldn't wait to get back to having Sam Drake all to himself.


End file.
